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September 11, 2011

The Brick House, By Natalie Silver

Bio: Natalie writes, "I'm Natalie Silver and I go to the NYC Lab School. I like traveling, amusement parks, and beaches. I have two younger sisters and I live in Manhattan."
 

The house took forever to build. I saw my brothers lounging out in front of their houses, and it was hard for me to keep going. I thought, “what motivation do I have? There are no hurricanes in this town, and very few rainstorms. What could knock over a house, even of straw?” I kept working, knowing that it is the wisest to expect the worst. I figured, with all this global warming, who knew what the weather would bring this year?




My mother always said, “George, you have the most common sense of all of your brothers. Look out for them. Make sure they are doing what is right.”

I went over to each of their houses three times, warning them to work harder on their buildings. I knew they had some money in the bank, so it’s not like they had to buy straw and sticks just because they were on sale! They never listened to what I said. They were lucky that they had gotten so far in life with their chronic laziness. I knew that my mother’s warning would reign true, and they would end up being hurt in the end. But how many times could I nag them to do something before they actually listened? It was a waste of my time to continue to try to convince two pigs in their own world.

I figured that I needed to start thinking about me. My selflessness consistently proved to be my biggest weakness. Building a brick house was much harder than it seemed online. The bricks were heavy, and I grew tired quickly. It was such a beautiful day out. 65 degrees in the coldest February ever! My terrible brothers laid outside tanning. They snickered as they saw me toil away, working on that house. I was already halfway done, and I refused to quit. I knew in the bottom of my heart that my hard work would pay off. My mother did not push me to work hard for no reason. She knew how it is in the real world, and I didn’t want my first real house to look like a pigsty!

*2 Months Later*

Everyone in the neighborhood was terrified of this mass murderer on the loose only known as “Wolf”. He was very sneaky, and knew how to break into houses with ease. Because of this, I installed a home security system and checked all the doors and windows in my house. My terrible brothers were making fun of me, calling me a paranoid loser, and a momma’s pig. I didn’t care, I would rather be safe than sorry.

I was in the middle of my favorite show, Two and a Half Pigs, and an emergency broadcast came on. A newspig stated with much concern that Wolf was loose in New Pork. The police outlined the area which Wolf was expected to be in on a map. My jaw dropped in horror when I saw that Wolf was suspected to be on my block. I shut all the windows, made sure my security system was working, and dashed to the phone. I first called my youngest brother down the block in his straw house.

My brother said, “Hello?” and then the phone dropped. I could hear a deep voice screaming, “Let me in! Let me in!” a loud crash, and then silence. I was scared to death for my next brother. I called him immediately.

I pleaded for my older brother to come to my house. He laughed it off, thinking I was making a prank call to him. He told me that our younger brother was fine, and that the sticks his house was made of are the strongest sticks he could find. Mid-sentence, I heard a large crash in his house, and then silence. I frantically paced around my house, looking for anything that could protect me. All I could find was a baseball bat. I stood at the front of my house, about to call my mother when I heard a knock on the door.

“LET ME IN!” screamed Wolf. I could tell it was Wolf because of how his voice made me shiver, and cold to the bone.

“The police are coming soon!” I screamed back, fighting to seem like I was fearless, even though my knees were shaking and my teeth chattering.

“Have it your way, I’ll blow this house down!” Wolf said. I figured that blow was some kind of street term, but I wasn’t sure what exactly he meant. I just knew I was in great danger.

It took him a long time to try to bust open the door. I remember feeling so relieved that my house was made of brick, even though there was a murderer on my doorstep. Just as I could see the door about to break, I heard sirens. I have never heard such beautiful sirens in my life. Red and blue lights flashed everywhere, and the look I saw on Wolf’s face when he realized he was caught is forever engraved in my mind.


Illustration by Leslie Brooke.
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