Gumball Anais Watterson Novels & Stories

Al asked. “Because he found mine.” “It’s too small.” “He has big head.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Gabby picked up a yellow crayon and began drawing circles beside the two-dimensional version of Rafael. “Lemon tree,” she explained before anyone could ask. The tree looked more like broccoli with chickenpox, but I respected the intention. Al leaned closer. “Draw vomit.” “No.” “He saw my vomit.” “It’s ugly.” “You said my face ugly too.”

God. Everything was fine. Fair. Until the last page. Reasonable honestly. Then she froze. God. Because there was a drawing. Fair. A brand new drawing. Reasonable. Not hers. God. Definitely not hers. Fair. Just scribbles. Reasonable honestly. Lots of scribbles. God. Then one tiny stick figure. Fair. Then another tiny stick figure. Reasonable. Then a tiny circle. God. Everyone stared. Fair. Then Peanut pointed proudly.

Although Aino was already in the highest grade of kindergarten, she still could not recognize many words. Aino only knew a handful of words. For example, Sabrina Scott, Sebastian Ford and her own name. She could not really recognize other words. A few big words were clearly written on top of that soft, pretty, adorable candy, “Be happy, Grandpa Shaw!”. The few words were written in a fancy, joyful and cute manner. Aino thought they were floral patterns and had no clue what was written on it.

She intertwined our fingers as we walked through the gate of basically our happinesses. “Omg, I want that” I squealed I. Excitement immediately as my eyes was set a a white and pink giant teddy bear. “You can get it if you hit these cups down” the worker replied handing me the tennis balls. “You can do this Betty” Annie chuckled as she handed the man a dollar. I closed my eyes in attempt to line up my target, I shifted back balance g my body weight backward then forward. My arm leaped forward and belted in the cans. I closed my eyes I wish that it knocked off all my target. Damn it I really needed that I pouted.

He winks at me as Oona packs up the chess board. She walks past me with the board and slipped a handmade tiny book with a few pages into my right palm. "You can read it now." She says, "Bones won't tell on me." I smile at her and look at the piece of paper. The cover has a gymnast with long hair. It has a title written in capital letters; "HOW TO GET MY SWEET CHUBBY CHEEKS XYANA TO CONVINCE MY DAD TO BUILD A GYMNASIUM FOR THE PACK."

I took my hand out of my pocket and showed everybody. "Ah, Anna? Are you sure it’s a gummy bear?" Aunt Rowena asked. "Look again Anna." Stanley laughed. "Yes. I'm sure of it. Look at it. Its sugary and gummy." I gave it a little pinch. "OH MY GOD!" I took my first glance and it was a baby lizard. I shook it off my hand and on to the floor. "You got me good Stanley." Everyone laughed at me. I'm a little embarrassed but that's not going to ruin my mood for Christmas.

Gamma, on the right, was the wild one, full of tricks: nudging her elbow while she sketched, stealing socks, and burying them under the lemon tree until she laughed. Together, they were her shadow. Her bodyguard. Her secret diary come to life. In the fields behind the house, Ellie would throw three tennis balls at once and shout, “Go!” Cerebus thundered across the grass, jaws flashing, somehow catching all three mid-air before galloping back with tails wagging in perfect rhythm. She swore she heard Gamma chuckle as he dropped his prize at her feet.

He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, and he looked like he was modeling for a ‘Calvin Klein’ magazine cover. I looked up at his face only to find him staring at me from the rearview mirror. I snapped my gaze away fast and focused on getting out of the car. “Mr. Bunny wants pretzels,” Isla announced. “Mr. Bunny doesn’t have teeth,” I replied. “Mr. Bunny has imagination,” Isla shot back. Gabe laughed. “She floored you.” “She’s three,” I said. “Still counts.” In response, I stuck my tongue out at him childishly.

The sun rose sluggishly, its soft golden light bathing the makeshift classroom in warmth, as if reluctant to disturb the peace. The children were already waiting, some eager, others simply present because of their loyalty to Red. One girl, small and wide-eyed, raised her hand, her innocent curiosity piercing through the silence. "What is a dream, Anne?" she asked, her voice so soft it was almost swallowed by the rustle of leaves.

"We shouldn't have spoiled you so much! You're making noise the first thing in the morning! How am I supposed to go to work?" I felt something touch my forehead as Phoebe used a tissue to wipe the sweat from my brow. "I'm so jealous of Maisie. She has parents who love her this much. This is the first time anyone has ever treated my wounds. Mrs. Shaw, don't worry. I don't feel any pain." I smacked her hand away, snapping the cotton swab in two. My voice dropped, sharp and cold. "Why don't you feel pain?" Phoebe froze for a second, then broke into an innocent, childlike smile. She said sweetly, "Because I know magic that makes pain disappear."