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Life Is Not Perfect?

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Life is not perfect. There are good times, and bad times. There are also times of regret. But regret isn’t a bad thing, it’s just realizing that what you did was wrong, and how you can learn from it. The afternoon started like any afternoon would, I was up in my room reading, when a quiet voice from the kitchen called to me.
“Claire, will you please come down?” The voice echoed. I went down the stairs and into our kitchen, it was filled with the wonderful smell of my Mom’s famous brownies.
“Yeah?” I sighed.
“It’s a nice day out, why don’t you go ride your bike with your brother?” My Mom suggested.
“But Mom! I don’t want to.” I complained
“Well, Zach can’t go alone, so you have to go with him.” My Mom said.
“Fine.” I mumbled. Suddenly, I heard Zachs footsteps coming down the stairs. I quickly put on my teal flip flops, ran into the garage and then hid behind our white and blue speedboat.
Zach will never find me here, so I won’t have to go! I thought to myself, feeling clever.
I sat there for what felt like hours before Zach came out the door. He was wearing gray and black Nike shorts, with a red shirt. He wore black Adidas slides on his small feet.
“I can see you.” Zach pointed out.
“Come on Claire its only around the block, it's not even that far.” He tried to persuade me.
“Go with him Claire. ” My Mom commanded.
“Fine!” I hissed. Then stomped out of the garage causing an earthquake. Anger was stirring up inside of me, why did I have to go? Why can’t my sisters take him, I always have to do it. I guess I didn’t have a choice. So I got out my orange and black bike, and put on my white helmet. Zach did the same. We pushed our bikes out of our large garage, and began our ride.
Trying to lose Zach, I sped up and started to swerve all over the roads and sidewalks. But I couldn’t get rid of him.
After six long minutes, we made it back home.
“Want to go again?” Zach asked hopefully.
“No!” I snapped at him. “You said one lap.” I paused, then spoke again. “Your lucky I did even one lap with you.” I sassed.
“Does that mean your not coming?” He questioned me. “Duh! Why would I do a second lap when I was forced to do the first?” I explained to him, with an angry tone in my voice. “Fine, I guess I’ll go

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