The Pilgrims Were Fucking Idiots

Because it’s a snow emergency we are home from school for the day. Winter sunlight fills the dusty, cold living room. It’s ridiculously bright and makes the green, aqua-ish colored carpet glow like it was radioactive. The old wood windows with distorted hand-blown glass panes have no shades over them. The snow on the ground outside, the late morning sun and the shadeless windows make it almost impossible to see the TV. My younger brother and I are watching the “Price is Right.”

It’s fucking freezing in here! The old house iss like an Indian lean-to it’s so drafty in here. If it’s really windy out, you can actually hear the air howling through the seams of the place. I don’t know anyone else that lives in a house that was built in the 1780’s. My mother – fuck – she loves this place! She’s into it. She fell in love the moment she first saw it. She called it quaint. Apparently back in the olden days this house was an Inn. That was a selling point for her. An inn, as in a spot where olden people would stop to drink. I think it’s weird the place is still standing. Some dude with a belt on his hat cut down trees to make this place. He did a crappy job in the sense that the wind blows right through it. You could argue on the flip side that the place has been standing for over 200 years now, so I guess whether the dude did a good job or not is relative.

My brother and I have been arguing as to which one of us gets the seat near the heat register and right now it’s Jonas’ turn. He has his comforter blanket draped over his shoulders. His feet are planted on the corners of the blanket so it forms a little tent over the heating vent, trapping the hot air as it comes up from the floor. I’m across the room, wrapped up in my blanket like a mummy, just trying to stay alive until it’s my turn to sit on top of the heating vent again.

Sometimes I wonder what the fuck was wrong with the Pilgrims. Were they all missing a gene or something? The one that caused them to act so stupidly – as a group!? We know they weren’t the most highly regarded group of people. They got kicked from one ass end of Europe to another before they were basically forced to move the show over to America. But talk about shitty navigators, their charter was for the Hudson River valley. Instead they hit Massachusetts and decided it was close enough.

They stayed! You land on the shore of Massachusetts in November for Christ’s sake and you say, “oh well, this will have to do.” That is the epitome of idiocy. You will freeze and you will die! It’s certainly cold enough in November to divine what’s to come. When its 10 degrees at night in November wouldn’t it make sense that it’s going to be a lot fucking worse in January? Any sensible person would jump back in the fucking leaky-ass Mayflower and head south. But no, not the pilgrims.

I don’t know anything. I am 13 years old. I feel powerless. I have no control over where I live, over what I do. One thing I do know about myself though is that I hate the cold. Being stuck in a drafty house that was built over 2 centuries ago, freezing to death, is unpleasant. I want to live in a place with walls that don’t have wind blowing through them. Someplace that’s located where I can go outside and not get lost in the woods. I want to be a normal city kid, not some fucking country hick like my neighbors. I guess where we live is technically a suburb but it feels like a million miles from anything to me. This place is the fucking sticks.

2 comments

  1. Anonymous

    I didnt read all of this but it doesn’t matter because the title is all that is needed. Well maybe not if the story was really good. Looks like I’ll never know

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