Electronic Madness Chapter 1

 Sorry if anything's misspelled or had bad grammar, it's a first draft.

“We will be arriving in Los Angeles momentarily. Please buckle your seat belts and turn off all electronic devices.”

Margie looked out the window and saw L.A. It was big, it was bright, and it was busy. Not at all like the little small town in Florida she had lived in before. She took out her ear buds and turned off her tiny MP3.

The plane landed on the ground with a thump-thump-thud-thud-thud; and then scratched across the runway: ker-ker-ker-ker-plump. “You may now exit. Please use the exit in the front left.” Margie unbuckled and then started crowding down the aisle, occasionally glancing for the rest of her family.

As soon as she got off and was in the waiting area for her gate, she saw Sammy, her little brother, her mom, and her dad sitting down, scarfing down stale coffee from the morning, before they first got on the plane. She burrowed her frown, “Ew.”

Her family stood up. “Come on, Marg. It’s time to go home.” her dad said with a warm smile on his face. Almost as warm as the sun as she had said when she has younger. “So, are we getting back on a plane Smalltown?” she said as sourly as lemons. Her dad frowned, she winced. it was painful to get frowned at by him. She nodded, “fine.”

They went outside to the mini-van her dad had rented, since their car was barely half way across the country. She sighed as she crawled in. Inside it was musty and had rough seats. On the ceiling was a coffee ring.

What the heck? Margie thought. How on Earth do you get a coffee ring on the ceiling? The coffee would just drip all over your face!

She leaned forward in her back seat. “Mom?” she asked her mom, who was in the passenger’s seat in the front. He mom nodded, “What’s up?”

“Why, why, oh why did we move to California? I like Florida!”

 “Margie, I’ve told you a million times!”

Margie groaned, “Why not just tell it a million and one?”

“Fine. We moved from Smalltown, Florida because your father” –she motioned to Margie’s driving dad- “Got a job as a comedy TV director and was sentenced to come to California. You’ll love it in L.A.! I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” she spat at her mom.

Margie walked into the apartment building. It was breathtakingly fancy. There were restaurant-style booths in the corner, a doorman, and-fanciest of all- a big, huge chandelier in the middle of the ceiling. “Whoa.” Margie was surprised. How much did living here cost? She walked over to the doorman.

“Um, do you have an apartment key for Mrs. and Mr. Green?” she asked the doorman, his nametag read Tom. “Are you telling me...you’re Mrs. Green?” he asked, a little stiffly. She shook her head, “No, I’m her daughter. Do you have anything or not?” She clicked her heels, a bad habit of hers. He shook his head, but held up a paper in his thumb and index, as if it were the grossest thing he’d ever seen. “Let’s wait until your mommy and daddy get up in her. Sorry, I don’t have any lollipops.” he said in an exaggerated way, acting like she was a two year old. She gave him an evil eye.

Finally, her mom and dad came through the door the doorman had impolitely refused to open. “Are you Mr. and Mrs. Green?” They nodded a little surprised by the rudeness and his immediate accusation they set down their stuff next to Margie’s and walked over. Tom shoved the paper, which was a contract, and a pen in Margie’s mom’s face. Margie’s mom fake smiled, not too happy with the doorman’s attitude and signed, then Mr. Green did, too. Tom finally gave Margie the key to apartment 24. “Thanks.” Margie said sarcastically, and walked away to the elevator after picking up her suitcase.

Margie turned the doorknob with her right hand, her pink suitcase in her left. She braced herself. She opened the door. Inside was terrible.

The walls were all torn up and blank. The kitchen was dull with not an inch of stainless steel. And one of the toilets was clogged up and not a plunger was inside. The carpet was musty and a cloud of dust appeared with every step. The master bedroom was the same, but instead dust was all over the tiles and left footprints everywhere you stepped. She went back into the living room where the rest of her family was standing.

“We moved... for this?!” she nearly yelled at them. “Um, now honey, don’t be upset. We just needed a place to stay and this was the best. We’ll move out as soon as we can.” her mom replied. “How soon will that be?! Never?!” Margie yelled and ran into the bathroom. She slammed the door and white dust flew everywhere.

She couldn’t stay in there for long, since the smell was terrible. She could barely stay in the apartment for long. Soon enough, she ran out into the hallway. There she met a girl about her age. “A-are you okay?” she asked Margie, who was gasping her breath. “Oh, yeah, it’s just the smell of a new apartment. Musty.” The girl smiled, “Now I understand, I remember that day in my apartment.” The girl was carrying a brown bag of groceries. “I’m Marie, by the way.” Margie smiled back, “Margie. It’s nice to meet you.” “You too. I guess I’ll see you around. I’m apartment 28 in case you ever need me.”

Margie spent the next few days getting furniture into the place and vacuuming the floors. With the dust gone, Margie realized the floor was light mustard yellow... or maybe just really dirty white. The plumbing was working and the walls were dusted. They were beige. Margie’s bed had been placed in a bedroom right next to the laundry room. Every night she listened to its hum and beat; ba-ba-ba-bump ba-ba-da-ba-bump. She liked its soothing sound, but still hated that apartment.

A few months before the Green family moved, Margie got the news that they were moving to L.A. Margie was not happy. “Why do we have to move?!” she would shout. “Why can’t we just stay here in Smalltown?! Dad can work from home! A lot of people do it!” Then she would run into her room, slam the door, and face plant onto her purple and orange flower comforter. Later, her mom would softly knock on the door and walk in. Margie would be lying on the bed, back up. Her mom would silently shuffle over, arms crossed but in a comforting way, as if she her practicing to hug Margie. She would sit on the bed, putting one hand on her lap and stroke Margie’s back with the other. “Honey, I know you’re upset.” Margie would roll over so she could see her mom. She would place her hands on the stomach and her mom would take one and squeeze it. “I know you’d much rather stay in Smalltown, but this is your father’s big chance. You’ve got to agree to move to L.A. You’ll make new friends, and you can keep in touch with your old ones. Come on. It’ll be better for all of us.” She would squeeze the hand again. Margie would just lay there. Not saying anything. But eventually, her mom would leave and smile as, telepathically, she thought Margie had agreed. Unfortunately, Margie never agreed.