I know its a Rio fanfiction and it doesn't belong here but this is the only place where I know for sure my fanfiction will be read ou at least looked at. There are almost 5,000 fans here and on the Rio page there are barely 1,000 people and there are only five articles and they're all about Rio II. Again, like I a dit on the wall. You'll be Lost if toi haven't watched both movies.
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I went to school everyday, and it begins to get dull on you. Watching the same thing over and over again; hoping that one-day your life will change. Perhaps my life will change; perhaps my life will be a best seller as it says on the roof of my school building.
I never really enjoy this life because nothing exciting happens. When does the line come between living your life and just being another statistic? See, life in this world seems pointless, because nobody knows toi existed unless you’re written in the history livres ou on their favori films and stories. My life consists of five things; wake up, go to school, learn, go home, sleep and then repeat, same thing everyday of every week of every year. The only sort of joy I find in this world is through the animated films that I watch; finding some comfort in pretending that I was in them, where I would be important to people.
My mother was verbally abusive, and she never really wanted me. She only wanted the child support. My father has moved somewhere else to be with his woman and right now I am with my grandmother, living in her house. It’s not bad, but then again, it’s not the best.
One particular movie I really enjoy watching is Rio. toi know? The children movie where the two unlikely birds fall for each other? That’s my favorite. I guess the birds remind me of when life was good, ou they make me want a better life where others actually recognize who I am and don’t just recognize me to torture me.
My name is Crash Hops, nice to meet you…this is my story.
_______________________________________________
I woke up to my grandmother shaking me.
“CRASH! Get up!” She screamed.
“Huh? W-Wha?” I let out, not registering what she was saying.
“Get up! You’ll be late!”
With that I jumped out of lit and went to my wooden hamper where I kept my school clothes that I was planning to wear for the day. I guess it’s to the point where my body just does it automatically; like it’s a normal bodily function. I open the drawers where I keep my undergarments and went to take a bath.
Like most mornings I didn’t technically get a bath; I just sat there on the toilet and wondered what life would be like if I was an animated character ou if I could do something in this world. Sometimes I’ll pray and hope that God will answer my calls for a better life, but like normal, it doesn’t happen. Not saying that God isn’t listening, but I doubt he’ll just give me a woman off a silver platter; he’ll give me an opportunity and I have to be the one who recognizes it and takes it. I sit there and moan about how “terrible” my life is. How boring and hurtful my life is.
I finally get done rambling and feeling sorry for myself and I get up off the toilet, turn off the tub water that I turn on to trick my grandmother into thinking I am taking a shower, I put the towels into the basket so that they look like I used them, and I walk out of the bathroom to go get ready.
I walk into my room and slip on my grayish colored chemise with some old raggedy blue jeans and my steel toed Georgia Boots. I walk out of my room and out into the tanière, den where my grandmother, sitting in her normal rose robe, has two pieces of Cheese pain grillé and a Mountain Dew waiting for me. Weird breakfast huh? Yeah, my breakfast is weird; the Dew is for my ADHD though. It helps me stay focused.
I finish my Cheese pain grillé and head for the door, “Good luck! Have a good jour at school!” My grandmother called. I usually don’t reply to that, take that how toi want, but I don’t believe that deserves a response.
The truck I drive is a Ford Ranger. Not much, but it gets me from A to B. It’s red with black highlights and it has a step side with a toolbox on its back (That is put back a little because I ran into my Aunt’s car.) I have dual pipes, so she sounds amazing. The only problem I think I could ever have with my truck is the fact that it’s so small. My Friends that aren’t actually just Friends with me for money can’t all fit in it. So yeah, we have problems.
I climb in my truck and crank it up, waiting for the radio to turn on before I shift it into gear and drive off to school.
The school that I go to isn’t that big. It has only four hundred students ou somewhere around there. It’s a big brick building with a pull in. Over to the side there is the student parking lot and that’s where I park. toi know when a school is small when their parking spots are only numbered to eighty something. There is a big rock beside the closest parking spots to the school and it is tradition for each senior class to make a painting on it for their senior class to last until suivant school year. If toi scratched all the paint off and went down to the bare rock it’ll probably be a quarter of its current size. When toi pass the rock there is a drive in that goes all the way down to a fence where toi go into to go to the Agriculture Science labs ou to the Football field during football season. toi walk across that rue to another patch of herbe that leads up to sidewalk where toi go right to go into the building and on your left is the drop off zone for students who can’t afford cars. There are a lot of them par the way.
Inside there is a hallway to the front and right, which leads to the cafeteria where, of course, we eat lunch and breakfast. To the left, there is the English hallway where all the English teachers are found. To the right, there are two sets of double doors where the auditorium is located. To the front and left is the check in bureau where toi check in if you’ve been bad and got to school late. They have to press a button to let toi into the cafeteria and the English hallway. The cafeteria has to be the largest room in the school, only suivant to the Gym and even that’s a slight win. We have two lines; one “hot” and one “cold” and we get to choose which meal we’d like to devour.
All these amazing rooms I tend to skip and go straight to my first class, Chemistry, where my first block teacher, Mrs. Radwick is waiting for my fellow classmates and me. I stay in there until 9:25 where the cloche, bell rings and we travel through the cafeteria and through a little room beside the cafeteria called the “annex”. I arrive at Math IV where Mr. Matchet is waiting for me. After that, I go out to the AG Building to find an eager Mrs. Fort waiting for me. Finally I get to go to British Lit. where an eager Mrs. Bake is waiting for me. After her class, the jour ends at 2:50 and I head accueil most likely to watch Rio.
I climbed into my truck and plugged my phone into the Auxiliary Port on my radio and listened to mostly A jour To Remember. I drove down the road past my turn to head accueil and headed out on the Homerville Highway. The Southern Pines flying past my truck as I drive down with the window down so that I can feel the natural air smacking against my face.
Then, I noticed something strange, a bright white light coming from the river that flowed beside the road. I stopped, pulled over, and climbed out. I noticed that no one else was stopping to check out the aléatoire light coming from the river. “Am I the only one who sees this?” I a dit to myself. I looked down into the light and wondered if it was meant for me. Is this the opportunity God has donné me? Maybe I just failed so many times and he’s making it obvious for me? I put my feet into the musky water to see if it felt different then a normal river. It didn’t, so I decided I should have a closer look. I went down underwater, staring at the light. Expecting to just be a reflection from something, I went to touch it and then; everything went dark.
I woke up to a wooden ceiling. What happened? Where am I? Am I okay? Should I move? Where did I go? How did I get here? Why aren’t I wet ou drowning? The questions continued to fill my mind before my mind could provide for answers, so, in the curiosity of the new situation I was in, I went to sit up. Then, a giant pain flowed through my head; I looked down and closed my eyes as I reached up to grab my head. The problem was, I didn’t feel hands.
“What!?” I screamed out in disbelief, “Where are my hands? What happened?” These questions kept flowing through my mind like a slot machine and then I realized it.
“F-…Feathers?”
I stood up to see my talons on the bottom of my feet, and my body covered with feathers. I check my hands to find wings instead, and when I went to look outside I hit what I think was my beak. “I’m a…bird…” I spoke out loud. I looked down at my body to find blue feathers. “I’m a Macaw?”
I walked to the edge of the structure that I was in and looked down the rue to find humans walking around. I looked back up and I was in a doghouse, down the rue from the River where I was. There were people down where I went into the water. The people and trucks were chargement someone into the ambulance, a person that looked at lot like me. I’m dead? I walked closer to the ambulance and people around the river, walking of course. My grandmother was crying and my family was there, so I guess it was I.
No point in trying to go home, I decided to walk onward, heading towards Homerville, perhaps I’ll learn how to fly par the time I get to Miami, hopefully before that.
If I am where I think I am, then my suivant destination would have to be Rio De Janeiro, Brazil.
Time seems to go par faster plus so when you’re walking and thinking about things. Would they even be in Rio? What time is it now? Are they in the Amazon? I’m just assuming that they’re in Rio; since school just started back earlier this mois and its winter semester. When it’s winter in North America it’s summer in Rio. They might not even be alive, but I guess it’s worth a shot if I get to see my two biggest idols in the world. I kept treading on and on and on with the mentality that they’re alive; that they’re in Rio plus specifically. Life would be worth living if I could meet them. Life would be worth living if I could find their graves. Perhaps maybe I’ll even find someone to l’amour as a bird, apparently Brazilian Macaws like American Macaws better than others.
As I passed Homerville though, there was a car, preparing to crank up. They opened the door to pick something up, so I took my opportunity. I climbed into the rear of the car, using the door and body to pull myself up. I hid under the back siège and rested for a while. Trying to sleep under the laughter of the children and parents.
I thought about my family back there at home, but I thought that since none of them really cared for me. I guess it really doesn’t matter. So I pressed on, going through cities, Lake City, Orlando, and Gainesville. I just kept on, trying to reach the city of Miami.
We stopped near a gas station to rest for the trip, at least they did. I turned from the car and saw the sign “Miami 3 miles”. My excitement filled my body and I screamed, “Yes! Finally!” as I treaded to the city.
There was one plus problem that I faced. I didn’t know how to fly and I couldn’t just go to the sea and get on a boat; I don’t know where it will go. It could go to Britain for all I know, so I have to fly to Rio.
So, like an instinct, I started walking, wondering how I was going to learn to fly since I had just became a bird a few hours ago.
The city was like nothing I’d seen before. Being born in a small town and growing up there your entire life doesn’t make much for an adjustment to people walking around every seconde of every day. The streets were paved with shiny cement and the buildings were taller than water towers. I’d seen nothing like it, at least, not in person. Seeing something like this is like seeing that really attractive girl for the first time. In the beginning it’s an amazing experience, but in reality she’s a houe and works the corner if toi catch my drift.
I walked up to this particular building that was like something out of southern Georgia, toi know; the falling apart redneck type look, and that was familiar to me. The building was a basic hut with a small porch in the front with two wooden chairs, and it stuck out from the five billion foot tall skyscrapers standing beside it. I figured that would be a perfect place for me to learn to fly, since it’s obviously out of place. I walk briskly towards the wooden building, and use my beak to climb the porch stand. On haut, retour au début of the roof I look down to find a small trashcan. “Oh, that could break my fall…” I thought to myself out loud.
Break my fall? It was the smallest little trashcan, if I jump and miss with my wings I’ll glide far past that tiny little trashcan. But, I couldn’t wait and hesitate because I had to be strong and trust myself to lift me off the ground and into the air. So, I began to run towards the edge and I leaped into the air, and then, bang. It all went dark…again.
_______________________________________________
I went to school everyday, and it begins to get dull on you. Watching the same thing over and over again; hoping that one-day your life will change. Perhaps my life will change; perhaps my life will be a best seller as it says on the roof of my school building.
I never really enjoy this life because nothing exciting happens. When does the line come between living your life and just being another statistic? See, life in this world seems pointless, because nobody knows toi existed unless you’re written in the history livres ou on their favori films and stories. My life consists of five things; wake up, go to school, learn, go home, sleep and then repeat, same thing everyday of every week of every year. The only sort of joy I find in this world is through the animated films that I watch; finding some comfort in pretending that I was in them, where I would be important to people.
My mother was verbally abusive, and she never really wanted me. She only wanted the child support. My father has moved somewhere else to be with his woman and right now I am with my grandmother, living in her house. It’s not bad, but then again, it’s not the best.
One particular movie I really enjoy watching is Rio. toi know? The children movie where the two unlikely birds fall for each other? That’s my favorite. I guess the birds remind me of when life was good, ou they make me want a better life where others actually recognize who I am and don’t just recognize me to torture me.
My name is Crash Hops, nice to meet you…this is my story.
_______________________________________________
I woke up to my grandmother shaking me.
“CRASH! Get up!” She screamed.
“Huh? W-Wha?” I let out, not registering what she was saying.
“Get up! You’ll be late!”
With that I jumped out of lit and went to my wooden hamper where I kept my school clothes that I was planning to wear for the day. I guess it’s to the point where my body just does it automatically; like it’s a normal bodily function. I open the drawers where I keep my undergarments and went to take a bath.
Like most mornings I didn’t technically get a bath; I just sat there on the toilet and wondered what life would be like if I was an animated character ou if I could do something in this world. Sometimes I’ll pray and hope that God will answer my calls for a better life, but like normal, it doesn’t happen. Not saying that God isn’t listening, but I doubt he’ll just give me a woman off a silver platter; he’ll give me an opportunity and I have to be the one who recognizes it and takes it. I sit there and moan about how “terrible” my life is. How boring and hurtful my life is.
I finally get done rambling and feeling sorry for myself and I get up off the toilet, turn off the tub water that I turn on to trick my grandmother into thinking I am taking a shower, I put the towels into the basket so that they look like I used them, and I walk out of the bathroom to go get ready.
I walk into my room and slip on my grayish colored chemise with some old raggedy blue jeans and my steel toed Georgia Boots. I walk out of my room and out into the tanière, den where my grandmother, sitting in her normal rose robe, has two pieces of Cheese pain grillé and a Mountain Dew waiting for me. Weird breakfast huh? Yeah, my breakfast is weird; the Dew is for my ADHD though. It helps me stay focused.
I finish my Cheese pain grillé and head for the door, “Good luck! Have a good jour at school!” My grandmother called. I usually don’t reply to that, take that how toi want, but I don’t believe that deserves a response.
The truck I drive is a Ford Ranger. Not much, but it gets me from A to B. It’s red with black highlights and it has a step side with a toolbox on its back (That is put back a little because I ran into my Aunt’s car.) I have dual pipes, so she sounds amazing. The only problem I think I could ever have with my truck is the fact that it’s so small. My Friends that aren’t actually just Friends with me for money can’t all fit in it. So yeah, we have problems.
I climb in my truck and crank it up, waiting for the radio to turn on before I shift it into gear and drive off to school.
The school that I go to isn’t that big. It has only four hundred students ou somewhere around there. It’s a big brick building with a pull in. Over to the side there is the student parking lot and that’s where I park. toi know when a school is small when their parking spots are only numbered to eighty something. There is a big rock beside the closest parking spots to the school and it is tradition for each senior class to make a painting on it for their senior class to last until suivant school year. If toi scratched all the paint off and went down to the bare rock it’ll probably be a quarter of its current size. When toi pass the rock there is a drive in that goes all the way down to a fence where toi go into to go to the Agriculture Science labs ou to the Football field during football season. toi walk across that rue to another patch of herbe that leads up to sidewalk where toi go right to go into the building and on your left is the drop off zone for students who can’t afford cars. There are a lot of them par the way.
Inside there is a hallway to the front and right, which leads to the cafeteria where, of course, we eat lunch and breakfast. To the left, there is the English hallway where all the English teachers are found. To the right, there are two sets of double doors where the auditorium is located. To the front and left is the check in bureau where toi check in if you’ve been bad and got to school late. They have to press a button to let toi into the cafeteria and the English hallway. The cafeteria has to be the largest room in the school, only suivant to the Gym and even that’s a slight win. We have two lines; one “hot” and one “cold” and we get to choose which meal we’d like to devour.
All these amazing rooms I tend to skip and go straight to my first class, Chemistry, where my first block teacher, Mrs. Radwick is waiting for my fellow classmates and me. I stay in there until 9:25 where the cloche, bell rings and we travel through the cafeteria and through a little room beside the cafeteria called the “annex”. I arrive at Math IV where Mr. Matchet is waiting for me. After that, I go out to the AG Building to find an eager Mrs. Fort waiting for me. Finally I get to go to British Lit. where an eager Mrs. Bake is waiting for me. After her class, the jour ends at 2:50 and I head accueil most likely to watch Rio.
I climbed into my truck and plugged my phone into the Auxiliary Port on my radio and listened to mostly A jour To Remember. I drove down the road past my turn to head accueil and headed out on the Homerville Highway. The Southern Pines flying past my truck as I drive down with the window down so that I can feel the natural air smacking against my face.
Then, I noticed something strange, a bright white light coming from the river that flowed beside the road. I stopped, pulled over, and climbed out. I noticed that no one else was stopping to check out the aléatoire light coming from the river. “Am I the only one who sees this?” I a dit to myself. I looked down into the light and wondered if it was meant for me. Is this the opportunity God has donné me? Maybe I just failed so many times and he’s making it obvious for me? I put my feet into the musky water to see if it felt different then a normal river. It didn’t, so I decided I should have a closer look. I went down underwater, staring at the light. Expecting to just be a reflection from something, I went to touch it and then; everything went dark.
I woke up to a wooden ceiling. What happened? Where am I? Am I okay? Should I move? Where did I go? How did I get here? Why aren’t I wet ou drowning? The questions continued to fill my mind before my mind could provide for answers, so, in the curiosity of the new situation I was in, I went to sit up. Then, a giant pain flowed through my head; I looked down and closed my eyes as I reached up to grab my head. The problem was, I didn’t feel hands.
“What!?” I screamed out in disbelief, “Where are my hands? What happened?” These questions kept flowing through my mind like a slot machine and then I realized it.
“F-…Feathers?”
I stood up to see my talons on the bottom of my feet, and my body covered with feathers. I check my hands to find wings instead, and when I went to look outside I hit what I think was my beak. “I’m a…bird…” I spoke out loud. I looked down at my body to find blue feathers. “I’m a Macaw?”
I walked to the edge of the structure that I was in and looked down the rue to find humans walking around. I looked back up and I was in a doghouse, down the rue from the River where I was. There were people down where I went into the water. The people and trucks were chargement someone into the ambulance, a person that looked at lot like me. I’m dead? I walked closer to the ambulance and people around the river, walking of course. My grandmother was crying and my family was there, so I guess it was I.
No point in trying to go home, I decided to walk onward, heading towards Homerville, perhaps I’ll learn how to fly par the time I get to Miami, hopefully before that.
If I am where I think I am, then my suivant destination would have to be Rio De Janeiro, Brazil.
Time seems to go par faster plus so when you’re walking and thinking about things. Would they even be in Rio? What time is it now? Are they in the Amazon? I’m just assuming that they’re in Rio; since school just started back earlier this mois and its winter semester. When it’s winter in North America it’s summer in Rio. They might not even be alive, but I guess it’s worth a shot if I get to see my two biggest idols in the world. I kept treading on and on and on with the mentality that they’re alive; that they’re in Rio plus specifically. Life would be worth living if I could meet them. Life would be worth living if I could find their graves. Perhaps maybe I’ll even find someone to l’amour as a bird, apparently Brazilian Macaws like American Macaws better than others.
As I passed Homerville though, there was a car, preparing to crank up. They opened the door to pick something up, so I took my opportunity. I climbed into the rear of the car, using the door and body to pull myself up. I hid under the back siège and rested for a while. Trying to sleep under the laughter of the children and parents.
I thought about my family back there at home, but I thought that since none of them really cared for me. I guess it really doesn’t matter. So I pressed on, going through cities, Lake City, Orlando, and Gainesville. I just kept on, trying to reach the city of Miami.
We stopped near a gas station to rest for the trip, at least they did. I turned from the car and saw the sign “Miami 3 miles”. My excitement filled my body and I screamed, “Yes! Finally!” as I treaded to the city.
There was one plus problem that I faced. I didn’t know how to fly and I couldn’t just go to the sea and get on a boat; I don’t know where it will go. It could go to Britain for all I know, so I have to fly to Rio.
So, like an instinct, I started walking, wondering how I was going to learn to fly since I had just became a bird a few hours ago.
The city was like nothing I’d seen before. Being born in a small town and growing up there your entire life doesn’t make much for an adjustment to people walking around every seconde of every day. The streets were paved with shiny cement and the buildings were taller than water towers. I’d seen nothing like it, at least, not in person. Seeing something like this is like seeing that really attractive girl for the first time. In the beginning it’s an amazing experience, but in reality she’s a houe and works the corner if toi catch my drift.
I walked up to this particular building that was like something out of southern Georgia, toi know; the falling apart redneck type look, and that was familiar to me. The building was a basic hut with a small porch in the front with two wooden chairs, and it stuck out from the five billion foot tall skyscrapers standing beside it. I figured that would be a perfect place for me to learn to fly, since it’s obviously out of place. I walk briskly towards the wooden building, and use my beak to climb the porch stand. On haut, retour au début of the roof I look down to find a small trashcan. “Oh, that could break my fall…” I thought to myself out loud.
Break my fall? It was the smallest little trashcan, if I jump and miss with my wings I’ll glide far past that tiny little trashcan. But, I couldn’t wait and hesitate because I had to be strong and trust myself to lift me off the ground and into the air. So, I began to run towards the edge and I leaped into the air, and then, bang. It all went dark…again.
