It was a boring Sunday morning. I got really tired of playing on my new Xbox. It was a foggy morning. I had no want to go anywhere. My mom had just made me take the junk out of the storm shelter. It is underground and we had left it for 5 years. I hated the smell of mold. It was all over the walls. It took about three hours. I was now pondering about what I wanted to do for the rest of the day. I still had the smell of mold in my nose. Horrid, just horridly horrid. I didn't have anything to do. I heard my mom calling for me downstairs. I jump down all of them. I ask her what she needed. She said that there were some things in the storm shelter still. I groaned. Why did I have to do it? I pulled the shelter's door open. There was nothing but three chairs. They looked antique. I picked them up. Stupid chairs. They felt like they weighed a ton. I groaned as it felt like they got heavier. I put them outside the front door. I looked up at the sky. It was dark?! How it was just morning. Wasn't it? I run into the house and my mom asks where I have been. I don't know how to respond. I just tell her I fell asleep down there. She gives me a confused look and just shrugs. I run upstairs. I need to think about this. Was it the chairs? I look out my window. I see the chairs just sitting in the dark. I jump to the sound of the front door being knocked on. It was my step-father. I didn't like this man. Not one bit. My whole body ached at the sight of him. Thinking he can take the spot of my deceased father. It was supper time and my mom asked If I could find an extra chair for him. I grinned and replied as politely as I could. I run outside. I grin at the thought of his confused face. I pull on one of the other chairs. I look up at the sky. It is morning again?! I call for my mother. When I walk through the door, my mother tells me that I need to get the rest of the stuff out of the shelter. So, that is how the chairs worked. One fast forward time. One stays in present. The other goes back in time. It makes sense now. I slowly shove the chair to the table. The next morning, I walk to the table. My stepfather is here for breakfast. I told him he should choose the nice one. He looks at me as if he doesn't trust me. I tell him that I insist. He shrugs and sits down. I turn to look at him and he is not there. All that is there is powder.
Story by me title by me as well
