Here I sit, my right leg dangling off the side stoop. Looking up into the gray skies. It was so much calmer. It was one of those weeks. my ma took my phone for two days, my sister and I are non-stop fighting. Doors are being slammed, yelling echoed through out the house hold. It usually leads to this. Me . . . alone . . . outside.
We had only one week until school was out for summer vacation and these days made me dread it. But, school wasn't much better. Drama and ugly lies were always getting spread around. Friendships were eaten and swallowed whole like it was on the lunch menu.
The next morning was a typical school-day morning. I got up at 6:16, straightened my hair,through some mascara on, had a bite to eat and would head out. But, I stopped in front of the hall leading to the downstairs to see if I actually looked decent. Clogs,skinny leg jeans, a baggy sweat shirt, and my medium length hair shined a bit, the light brown smooth and soft looking. My face looked fragile in a way, my big hazel eyes outline with long lashes almost touching my bangs that swept across the front of my face heading towards the side. I shrugged, it's the best I can do.
When the bus would come to pick you up it would shoot th- . . . interrupting my thoughts the loud squeak of the yellow bus's brakes churned my ear drums. Paul was my bus driver. He used to go to my old church when I was younger. my family an his has gotten closer ever since. He jokes around all the time, and luckily I have a good sense of humor. The door flaps open revealing the white haired, older Paul. He already extended his fist waiting for me to "pound knuckles." That was our greeting. Instead of saying "Hello" we would "pound knuckles."
Sitting about four seats in back of Paul, I stick my ear phones in my ears and rest my head on the window. I was barely awake yet.
Entering the school's driveway was never fun, it took what seemed like twenty minutes to reach the brick school. "Sachems junior high," the orange sign read with an arrow pointing to the "short" distance from the school. Everyone would shuffle papers and books together, put ipods away, and get ready to unload until "BANG!" A loud firing sound shot through the bus. My heart pounced out of my stomach and what seemed like never went back into my chest. Many things were going through my mind as I grab my forehead trying to see if there was any life left in me. Was that a gun? Who shot it? Will they shoot again before this is attempted to be taken care of? I learned one thing to, I don't do well with surprises.