My name is George UnLuecky. My last name is pronounced like "un-loo-eh-key". I hate my last name. It's the most weird and most rare last name ever. I bet no one else in the world has this last name. People call me "George Unlucky" because a lot of bad things happen to me.
"I wish I wasn't the youngest," I fum as I walk in 30 minutes late into my classroom one day. Everyone in my class turned to look at me as I turned bright red with embarrassment.
"Why are you late?" My teacher asked as I sit down at my desk.
"Because I have to wait for all of my older siblings to finish getting ready." My brown hair was messy because I didn't even have time to wash and dry it. My shoes were untied because I didn't have time to tie it.
I was so hungry because I didn't have time to eat breakfast. But then I remember that my mom put a bag of chips in my lunchbox. I thought could just get one chip without the teacher noticing.
I quietly zipped open my lunchbox and try to open the bag of chips. Crinkle. I winced. "Please, please don't be too loud. I just want one chip!" I whisper-yelled to the bag. Crinkle. I look up to see if the teacher was watching me. She was still talking about different types of clouds to the class. I try one more time. Crinkle - POP! All the little, salty chips fly off onto other students' desks, on the floor, and on my face. The teacher got really mad and said I couldn't play outside for recess. I had to stay inside and do work.
"Why do I have to be so unlucky?" I asked myself.
When I got home, I decided to start on my homework. I grabbed it and a pencil and sat down at my desk. I took a sip of my water that I left the day before. It tasted warm. I hate warm water. I set it down next to my homework paper and my mom calls me. "George!" she yells. "Can, you come take out the trash?" I rolled my eyes. "Coming!" As I leave my room, my dog, Max, walked in. After I take out that heavy, stinky trash out, I come back into my room and I see my homework paper all soggy and wet. My water glass fell over, but how? I turn to my bed to see Max sitting right there looking all innocent.
"You!" I shout at him. "Get out you dumb dog!" Max heads droops as he drags himself out. I slouch on the floor and put my head in my hands.
"I am always so unlucky," I whispered to myself.
The next day at school my teacher asked me for my homework. "My dog spilled water on it, and it got all soggy," I explained to her. She didn't say it was alright. She didn't say that it wasn't my fault. She said it was just another excuse for not doing homework. Because the phrase "My dog ate my homework" didn't work anymore. I had to stay in for recess again.
"I guess being unlucky is my specialty," I told myself.
For the weekend, my family and I went to a water park. All of my older siblings dared me to go on a ride they just went on. I tried to go, but the guy who was making sure I was tall enough told me I was too short. I stood on my tiptoes. I was still too short. My older siblings called me a chicken. I tried to explain but they went away.
"I think I'm used to it now," I shrugged. "This happens to me all the time."