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When I Grow Up
|“So Lynal, what do you want to be?”
I stood up to answer the question; “I would like to be a fireman when I grow up.”
Fireman, doesn’t every boy my age want to be a fireman. I am Lynal Newburt and I am a 3rd grader in New Post Elementary School. I have never been the strongest kid in my class or the weakest either. I guess you can call me normal. Right now in Mrs. Kimler’s class we are doing a project on what we want to be when we grow up. I’ve always wanted to be a fireman. It helps that my dad is a fireman at Station 102. He’s always been my role model but he isn’t too strong either.
I guess you can say that he is the “outcast” at his station. He is a short skinny man at the age of 35, about 5’5” and 120 lb. Compared to the 6’5” 260 lb. Station Captain he is a runt. Just like me, his dream, since he was little, had always been to grow-up to be a fireman too. It happened for him but not in any way he wanted it to. He was left at the station when an emergency happened, his co-workers picked him on, and he was ignored by most of them.
“Okay class that’s enough for today. Just talk amongst yourselves until the bell rings.”
I walked around to find someone I could talk to. Finally I spotted my best and only friend, Isis. Yep you heard me, Isis. SHE is a girl.
“Isis, what did you think about class?” I asked, “I pretty much wrote the whole time and daydreamed.”
“Eh, I actually listened. Unlike someone else I know.”
I guess I forgot to mention that Isis is the smartest girl in our class. Every time I see her, except during class, she is reading some book I’ve never heard of. Like War of the… what is it called again?
“Hey, Isis. What was that book you were reading yesterday during lunch?
“Oh, you mean War of the Worlds, By H.G. Wells. I love that book it’s about-”
“I only asked for the name Isis.”
That’s right, War of the Worlds. She always has her nose in a book.
“Oh, there’s the bell. I’ll talk to you tomorrow Isis. I have to go walk home today.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll see ya tomorrow. And Lynal, on your way home you should check out that new shop on Maerd St. I heard it is really cool!”
“Okay I will. See ya.”
I wasn’t really interested in that shop but what the hey. I might as well check it out. I started walking up at it. “Dream Works”, who in the word calls their shop “Dream Works?” Might as well look at it.
As I walked inside I was a little in shock. It looked like a tiny store from the outside but it was much bigger inside. That is about where the shock stops though. The store looked like an old Good Will: old, run down, and dusty. I started walking through the shop when a man about my dad’s age walks up.
“What can I get for you young sir? A watch a toy train. We have plenty of those,” said the man in the most over reactive tone I’ve ever heard.
“Sorry sir, I’m not interested in that. I just came here to look,” I was trying to get him away from me but he wouldn’t leave.
“I have a new shipment of Comics. They are brand new!”
Man. Did he have to say comics? Next to being a fireman, comics are my next love. I have shelves in my room full of them. From the Fantastic Four to a rare limited addition #666 Spiderman comic. I would do ANYTHING for comics.
“Sure, show me to the comics. I would like to see what you have anyway.”
“Okay, they’re this way,” I followed him to almost the opposite side of the store. Past the old NES games, the cheap clothing, the ratty appliances, and the messy furniture. We finally got to a giant rack of comics. I was looking around it, pretty much everything I had was here. I kept on muttering: “have it… have it…. have it…” When finally something caught my eye. A comic called: When I Grow Up. It had some boy on the cover and when you turned it sideways it changed into a super-hero. Sort-of like those cheesy trading cards you got from Wendy’s.
There were a lot of them though. Instead of them being numbered each one just had a different theme. One was Bodybuilder, another was computer geek, and there was even a carpenter one. Then finally I found the one I was looking for, the Fireman one.
“I want this one,” I said to the man. I thought about it and decided I could get a couple more anyway. I looked through them again and found two more, Football Player and Police Man.
“I want these two also.”
“Sure, that will be $1.50 altogether.”
“I dug through my pocket and finally scrounged up $1.50. I gave it to the man and he put the comics in one of those bags with “Thank You” written all the way down it and told me to have a nice day.
I was very anxious to get home. I really wanted to read the comics; I sort of looked through one but not well enough to see how good they were. Usually it would take a half hour to walk home but with my half speed-walking half running I made it home in 10 min. I took out the key from under the mat and unlocked the door.
When I got inside I ran to my room and lay on the bed. I couldn’t wait to read it. I opened up the Fireman one and started reading. I was really disappointed though. The story really wasn’t that exiting. It had nothing to do with firemen or fire for that matter. It was like a cheep Superman rip-off. When I got to the last page of disgustingly bad writing there was finally some talk about firemen. All it said was: “Fireman you can be” and it was done. I was really let down.
I was walking to the kitchen to get something to eat because I was really hungry. I made myself a sandwich but as I was eating it I felt a small pain in my stomach. Like a pin poked my belly button. I lifted up my shirt to see if there was anything there. I didn’t see anything though. I then felt a small twitch on my “Little Lynal.” It felt sort of felt good actually.
I ran back to my room and chucked off all my clothing because the pin poking had spread. I threw off my clothing and looked at myself in the mirror. Nothing looked different. I could still feel the pin pokes though. I finally fell into bed and looked at “Little Lynal” because he felt better then ever. There was the weirdest feeling though. Like I should stroke it, touch it.
After about a minute of resisting it I finally let myself go. I look “Little Lynal” and stroked and stroked. It was the best feeling I ever had. I looked up and saw that “Little Lynal” was much bigger. My body wasn’t any different though but “Little Lynal” had to be at least 6 in. long.
I kept stroking and suddenly a new word came floating into my head: penis. Penis, what is that? That is “Little Lynal’s” name, isn’t it? Yes, his name is penis. That is what he really is. I kept stroking my penis and finally fell a sleeping doing it.
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