Maya, You Are Insane

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

The heart-wrenching tale of a girl who was not insane, just simply misunderstood.

Author's Note: I know this story is kind of pointless, but it's close to my heart. I feel like I'm revealing my innermost thoughts to you with this, so be gentle..

“Maya, you are insane,” my little brother Ty claimed as I swung my leg over the majestic steed.

I rolled my eyes, giving him my most condescending look. “I am not insane. This is a perfectly safe and good idea,” I replied, managing to plant myself on top of it perfectly.

“It’s a donkey. You cannot ride it like that!” he said. He obviously did not understand anything.

I chuckled heartily before tugging my brunette tresses into a smooth bun behind my head. I could not deal with the anguish of having stray hairs dangling in my eyes. “How naïve you are, sibling,” I stated as I stroked the beast’s mane, “Observe how tame it is,” I continued, spanking its thigh to further evidence.

The donkey merely snorted and flicked its tail in response. Ty must have realized then how pointless his argument was because he slinked away only moments later. He muttered something at me that sounded profound, but I must have been mistaken. He never did procure the nerve to sass me with a curse word. Everyone and everything respected me too greatly to utter such cruel words at my expense.

I grinned brilliantly at my triumph as he made his exit. For the next minute, I glared at him just in the case that if he turned around and considered returning he would see my expression and know I meant serious business. I had a way of influencing people like that. There was something subduing about my gaze. I would say to my family that I could see things, almost like a sixth sense. They always foolishly retorted by saying it was already one of the five.

My family never appreciated me. They were so human, relying on their technologies constantly. I always thought of myself as deeply connected to nature. While my siblings and parents rested like lazy potatoes in the comfort of their house, I was galloping around in the outdoors. I connected with the earth on the deepest level possible. I did not require the selfish distraction of manufactured products and toys. I was above that. My parents had called me hypocritical numerous times because I occasionally indulged myself with Nintendo games under the shelter of the shanty I had fashioned out of twigs and leaves and hair. What utter nonsense. I was not unlike any of the animals in that sense.

The creatures of the treacherous forest came to know me and fear me. Whenever I would be approached by the occasional bunny rabbit or ferocious bear, I would never fail to flail my arms madly at them and roar fiercely. They always scurried away in fear. I was always proud of my ability to frighten things so easily. That was yet another brilliant gift I possessed.

I began with scaring idiotic children that would cross my path in the playground by attempting to rip off their arms. Since then, I had moved on to more worthy game, like bears and dragons. The humans tried telling once that dragons did not exist, but I had already seen them with my own eyes. Oh yes, numerous times. They feared me.

When my brother told me I could not ride a donkey, I was nearly insulted. It was not as if I had never ridden upside-down bareback on one before. He also claims that I lie about such feats and calls me crazy. I believe he is the crazy one for doubting me.

The sun gleamed beautifully off the leather jacket I had slung over the donkey, capturing my gorgeous, subduing eyes briefly. My brother earlier inquired as to why I would do this in such steamy summer weather. I replied scientifically as usual. Ty was obviously unaware of the donkey’s average body temperature being a mere 51.2 degrees so I educated him. He first appeared weary of this explanation, but I am positive he understands my reasoning now.

For the next half hour, I sat on the donkey, posed regally in hopes someone might just catch a snapshot of this stance. Unfortunately, this did not occur. I was getting anxious and finally kneaded my elbow in the donkey to urge it to move forward. It purred, strangely enough, but it refused to stride forth.

I leaned forward and pulled on its ear gently, whispering, “You best go, donkey, or I will not reward you with this carrot.” I then slid out the vegetable I had been concealing in my trousers and put it against its nose, threateningly. The donkey ate it rudely and I no longer had the incentive.

I did not surrender so easily, though, and poked at the donkey. It would have to endure my pokes until it reacted. Peculiarly, the brute only responded with another purr. Was it enjoying its punishment? I nibbled the flesh of my lip deep in thought. Like a scholar, I stroked my chin as I pondered. Clearly the donkey was not impressed with my superior intelligence because the next moment, it was laying itself down on the ground without my consent. I almost toppled over, but managed to remain steadfast and alert, only letting out one terrified scream, I mean squeal.

Nightfall found me flopped over the monster, drool trickling from the side of my mouth. I did not attempt to wipe it off for it did not bother me. I salivated frequently and was just used to it.

I dug my face into its coat. He smelled like poop. I conveniently retrieved a bottle of spray out of my handy back pocket and sprayed it. He smelled like poop and flowers then. Improvement.

Weakly and humanly, I closed my eyes and fell asleep. I dreamed of crayons… breaking them and eating them. Crayons had always been my favorite snack as a child. The dream was short-lived. Right as I was almost done consuming the box I was awoken by a man with a mustache and a goatee smacking me.

I gurgled and looked up at him, mouth agape. His facial hair was hideous. I felt a pang of jealousy, still, for I had never acquired the ability to sprout fur on my face. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

I booped his nose as a quick distraction before swiftly rolling off the donkey and pulling myself up into a fighting stance seamlessly. I felt so ninja. He only blinked at me, his face bearing the stupidest expression. Clearly, he was astonished.

I challenged him with a push. “What are YOU doing, punk? Huh? Huh?” I questioned with intensity.

“I came here to take my little sister for a ride on the mule,” he answered sheepishly, obviously intimidated.

It was then that I noticed the adorable little blond girl that was clutching onto his knee. I shrugged and ignored her. I had my own issues to deal with.

I turned around to see that the beast had already stood up. I was surprised that I did not hear him because my hearing had always been superb. My hand closed in on my chest as I realized his betrayal. I closed my eyes and squished my face in disgust as I turned away from him. “You lied to me about being a donkey?” I said, deeply wounded. The mule did not reply.

I quickly roundhouse-kicked the disappointed feeling away as to not reveal my humanity. I turned back to the man to see that he had retrieved his cell phone and was dialing for the police.

“Look over there!” I shrieked, snatching the phone as he looked away gullibly. I laughed in his face before sprinting away heroically.

Then, I ran into the door and got arrested anyways.

The End.

Submitted: July 02, 2010

© Copyright 2022 NotActually. All rights reserved.

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Fri, July 2nd, 2010 1:40am


Lol i love it because my name is maya too . and i hear that all the time .

Fri, July 2nd, 2010 9:32pm

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