writing studio

Dishon’s eyes were wide with wonder. He could hardly believe that he was standing in the middle of his very own bedroom. But there he was. A week ago, his mom had told him that the family would be moving into the apartment downstairs. But she hadn’t said anything about him getting his own room. Like on all his birthdays, Mom had made sure the best gift was a surprise.
Amazed, Dishon stared at the blue walls plastered with posters of the one and only Armor Force, the most invincible crime fighting team in all of comic book history. He looked at the bunk beds pushed against the wall and the wooden dresser next to them. But his heart thumped when he saw a computer sitting atop a wobbly old stand in the corner of the room. He rushed over. On the stand rested an envelope with his name written on it. He tore it open and read the note. To my special boy, it read, Happy tenth birthday! Hope you like your new room and your computer. The computer’s old, but it works and it’s yours. Love you, Mom.
Wow! Dishon thought. His mom had thought of everything- a new computer, new posters. He tossed the letter next to the computer and pulled back the window’s gray curtain. He peeked out and saw that he had a perfect view of the building’s backyard. Now, he could watch the older boys play basketball back there without even leaving his room. Dishon grinned as he rolled out the computer desk chair. And then he spied it- the latest issue of the Armor Force comic book sat glossy and crisp on the chair. He gently placed the comic book on top of the computer and plopped into the seat. Now, this is the good life, he thought as he leaned back, kicking up his feet onto the rickety desk and folding his arms behind his head.
Out of all the boys who lived in the apartment building- Dishon, Marcus, Ruben, and Jamil- Marcus had been the only one who had his own room and he made sure the others knew it. “Your rooms are too crowded. Come over my house,” he would say anytime the boys wanted to get together to play video games or read comics. But now Marcus’ days of showing off were finally over. Now, Dishon could invite the crew over to his house; he couldn’t wait to tell his friends.
And better still, his little sister Sabrina wouldn’t be crowding his space any more. No more putting her dolls back into the toy chest, no more sharing his bunk bed, and no more looking at pink Little Princess sheets and pillows everyday. In his own room, Dishon finally could read his comics in silence. He could work on his Armor Force fan website in peace and quiet! Everything in the room belonged to him. The blue walls were his; the beds were his; the computer was his. His, his, his!!
This summer was off to a great start.
Dishon glanced at the mountain of boxes piled atop the gray carpet. Then, his eyes traveled to the shiny, new copy of the Armor Force comic book. He knew he should start unpacking; his mom had said that she wanted all his things put away before the end of the day. But instead, he ripped open the comic book. He would get to the boxes later. Did his mom really expect him to waste the morning unpacking when the new issue of Armor Force lay right in his hands? He hoped not, not when he was the first kid on his block to have it. He wanted to make sure he would be the first to tell his friends whether Freegate, leader of the Armor Force, finally destroys Malavor, head of The Annihilators.
Dishon lay on the bottom bunk and read. Soon he was in the middle of the story- the part where Freegate uses liquid nitrogen to freeze and separate the Malavor’s molecules. He was just about to turn the page when a welcome sound crept to his ears- the pop of bacon frying in a pan. Soon, the aroma of eggs and pancakes danced about his nose. He grinned. Bacon, eggs, pancakes! Mom was making his favorite breakfast. First my own room, and now this, he thought. My life keeps getting better.
Dishon sped through the rest of the comic book. He was on the last page when he heard a sound come from the kitchen, but this time it wasn’t a welcome sound at all; it was something that completely melted the smile from his face.
“Come here, Peanut,” his mom had called from the kitchen.
Dishon frowned. Mom only called him Peanut when she had bad news, really bad news. And just like that, he knew that his perfect day was perfectly ruined.