“Mom? May I have a cookie?” My hand starts to shiver towards the kitchen counter and my mom gives me an annoyed expression.
“Pen. You know the rules. No cookies before lunch. Mom made them especially for your older sister’s cookie cup this evening,” she says, putting all the hot cookies on a plate and putting it on the highest shelf in the kitchen.
My mom and dad practically hate me. My name is Pennelope Erins, but they call me Pen, just for short. But there’s a real meaning to it.
Before I was born, everything was wonderful. They had loads of money, and was one of the finest millionaires that people had ever saw. They scolded me, and told me that everything turned drastic from that point when I was added into my family. I don’t really understand why, but they tell me that it was just my fault, and that I should figure out why.
They say that they loved me ever as much as they loved my older sister, and named me Pennelope for love. They soon started to regret having me, and called me Pen for short. Why? They say the click clack of a ball pen, clicked on and off, is as annoying and agonizing as I am.
But there is one thing that I haven’t figured out yet. My sister, Cornella, looks very much like a little portrait of my mom and my dad. It was as if you used a very good camera that let you snap 2 pictures at once and was merged together. It was like that, except much more better. Me on the other hand looked like a old sock out of clean ones. I have streaks of brown in my blonde hair, and I look like a round bouncy ball.
So there I stand, looking sullen, when Cornella walks in, holding nothing, and coming in with a tear stricken face. I smile. Let’s see if my parents will like me better for once, after bragging to their friends about Cornella and her “winnings”.
“Honey, where’s your Gold Cookie Cup?” my mother asks, wiping my sister’s face. She stands and sobs even more.
“I.. I didn’t win. Synala won it off of me! How could she!?” she gasps between sobs and looks cruelly around at everyone.
Synala’s a friend of Cornella. I bet she got tired of Corny and started to snatch the cup away from my sister’s hands. Good job. Nobody can do that without a mastermind plan.
“Oh, well.. umm.. we were really looking for that Cookie Cup. Well I guess we can’t do anything about it.” my dad says, sullenly. He looks around and grabs the cookie plate and sees my enlightened face at the sight of the cookies. He snarls and grins a half hearted smile at me. He wipes it off and says in a sweet voice, “Cornella. It honestly doesn’t matter. The betrayal of your friend is VERY upsetting, but knowing that you put your heart into it, we can make our OWN Cookie Cup after we eat these cookies!
I scramble towards the living room and find the door locked. I jangle it around, but it won’t budge. I bang on the window looking towards the living room and see my dad passing the key to the door to my mom. She smiles and pats it into her pocket. Talk about Cookierella. I wistfully sigh and climb upstairs into my room.
Today is picture day, which used to be one of my MOST favorite days in school. Everyone would have to wear all these frilly dresses, while some kids went for hilarious costumes. It was one of the best days in my life. I later found out that as you entered middle school, everyone decided to quit happiness and go for style and “hip fashion.”
I would usually wear something based on cookies for school. I LOVE cookies. And I guess the world does too, since everything has SOMETHING to do with cookies.
I picked out an all original Pennelope Erins original. Cookie Swirled Socks, with nice Oreo Speckled shoes, long dark Smart Cookie pants, a flannel Cookie Monster Shirt, and a nice Cookie Dough Swirl Hairband and tie. I thought that I looked pretty cute, until everyone started to pile into school with the new exclusive Coachie bags that I EVER so wanted. They were over 500 Cookie Crumbles and that was way too much for me to even have over the course of a decade!
To make it even worse, the Cookie Stash are wearing wonderful Cookieture style clothes! Only Cornella would be able to have those in my house! I wonder if I could have clothes just as wonderful as theirs.
During lunch they called as one by one. My friend and I, Casidrin was going to go last. We ate our hamburgers and talked about our day, and especially about Corny and my parents yesterday.
“How was your parents and you know, her, yesterday?” I sighed. As if she didn’t know, but I did a major replay of what happened.
“Terrible as ever. Here, have my cookie.” She shoves her milk and cookie towards me and I smile in gratitude to her. She’s the best.