Creative Writing: Where Are We There Yet?

“Are we there yet?”
“No.”
“Now are we there?”
“Do you want me to turn this car around?!”
Brothers are annoying. I’m fairly certain my mother agrees, based on the way she’s sighing with exasperation. I swear, we’ve been in this car for eternity. Supposedly, grandma’s house is only 45 minutes away, but it seems like we’ve been in the car for years! Grandma lives near a lake halfway between Lawrence and Kansas City, where I live. For one last celebration before school starts back up again, my family decided to go on a trip there. Usually, I look forward to grandma’s, but my nuisance of a brother was ruining the trip already. He thinks he’s being funny continuously asking “are we there yet?”, but the rest of the family is already weary of it.
Technically, Zachary is only my half-brother on my dad’s side, but he’s just as horrible as any other older brother. He said with startling alacrity that
My brother looked so pale that I briefly thought that he might faint. I can’t imagine that I looked any better. Our parents were going to murder us mercilessly.
Through the surefire decision making process of eenie-meenie-miny-moe, my brother was elected to deliver the news to our parents that my phone was most likely lost forever. He was incredibly nervous, fidgeting with the pair of goggles he had with him constantly. When he told our father his voice was practically a whisper. Dad’s, however, was not. He yelled himself hoarse and then some, while my brother and I cowered meekly at his wrath. After that severe reprimand, my mother, who was not quite so harsh, suggested that we go look for it.
“It was supposed to be waterproof to some degree, so maybe it survived,” she reasoned. We all thought this was a wonderful idea, but it soon proved very difficult to even reach the bottom of the ten foot deep area in which the phone was dropped, much less stay underwater for the length of time necessary to look for