Journal #2 (Slow Motion)

1 sentence summary:
 Carl broke his dads television.
1 paragraph summary:
Carl had always known what his father said about his television. How he shouldn't have played with the Wi, when he was to close to the television.Except that Carl didn't care. His father was at the dentist and would be there for a while.So Carl decided to do what all teenagers in such a situation would do. He turned on the Wi and grabbed his Wi remote. It didn't take long for Carl to find himself involved in his game. He was after all playing his favorite game. Carl was just about to score the home run hit of the game.When he swing his remote into the television screen. The TV screen shattered instantly into pieces. Carl show this and did the one thing he knew he could. He ran out of the door and to his cousins house.
(Slow Motion piece)
Carl could feel the sweat on the brow of his hair, as he pushed his remote for the last home run. The remote has such a soft smoothness to it. An almost surreal smoothness to it. As it pressed out of the finger tips of Carl's hand. Seconds now seemed to run slowly. As the remotes rectangular body, moved pass Carl's fingertips. Easing it's self into the air. We're it moved in an almost football like spiral.
 "Dad would be so proud of how well I had perfected my spiral throws." whispered Carl to himself. The remote gently tapped the center of the screen. It emitted a faint squeak. A cross between a babies cry and a hum. It was essentially a silent hit. However as the sound of the remote hitting the TV echoed along the sound currents of the room. The sound went from being the small tap of a remote to the explosion of a nuclear bomb.The first pieces of the cracked TV had already started to break apart. It was like Everest has broken apart. Carl shouted "Shhiiiiittttttt". Stressing the S as he raced past three seconds,two seconds,one second. The remote in its chance to claim world fame. Decided to bounce off the TV. In an almost poetic choice of direction and hit Carl in the face. The one second that Carl has missed was made up. The remotes gently kissed Carl's and than hammer flat onto his cheek. The nerve ends on Carl's cheek thanked the remote. Carl took no note of this. His eyes said run and he did. Ten seconds to door. Nine seconds to door. Eight seconds to door. Seven seconds to door. His lungs breathing his asthma away. Six seconds to door. Five seconds to door. Four seconds to door. Three seconds to door. The sweat now growing on his head. Two seconds to door. One seconds to door. Boy was the door heavy. But not heavy enough to be pushed out to a running Carl.