Is It a Life Worth Missing?

Waking up to the shining sun in my face, I was already in a bad mood. I tossed over to lay on my side but found no comfort. As distressed as I was, I walked to the bathroom to see my mangled face beautiful again. The morning rituals ended after a few minutes and I walked into the kitchen. I was greeted by a strong hug from my mom and she gave her apologies for hitting me. This came to me as some way of avoiding lawsuit over anything else but I accepted the apology anyway. As my pancakes were served to me, I scarfed them down like a homeless kid and swiftly left the house. I spun a left on the sidewalk with a new self-confidence about my step. It felt nice to have my mom’s love again.

            I collected myself before hoping onto the bus like I usually do and sank down on the front seat. I hate sitting in the back because all of the spilled drinks and apples drain and roll their way back there. It can be a real downer walking around school with sticky shoes. I saw the school increase in size as the bus got closer and I felt sadness. Like the usual sadness but school inflicted.

            I plundered out of the bus, placing my face firmly on the pavement. Quickly hopping up and brushing my shorts off, I walked through the crowd of jokers. They all said things that I would rather forget, but I could not care enough to do anything about it. I stumbled a little when I entered my first period class and nearly blushing at my failure once again. My desk was unique in my first period class, it was empty inside so I could lift the top part and put stuff inside. This was helpful for storing my used gum and homework. It was the only one in any of my classes and I could tell there was some jealousy among my peers but I ignored it.

“Your arrogance proceeds you Mr. Gramer,” my teacher mumbled.

She was referring to the excellent way I handled my slip up. All of my teachers were asses, but so were most of the students so the mood always felt balanced.

            Class after class I sat through waiting for either the stomach flu to get me of the principal to tell me I am worthy of leaving this place. Neither happened. Disappointing really, I wanted the stomach flu quite bad, I guess there is always next week.

            My motivation is probably so small because I keep being held back. I thought the purpose of school was you moved forward and learned new things? That is a whole lot of B.S. I can never seem to wait until fifth period; it excites me really, just like seeing “explain” on a test excites every student who has ever taken a test.

            Finally, seventh comes to a close. I punch my ass into high gear, mushing down the hallway. The feeling of freedom as I exit the school was amazing. Until I realize my mom has not even arrived yet that is. This kind of situation worries me, I am afraid that the principle will find something to punish me for and pull me into detention again. It seems as though that would make it a baker’s dozen Drew! Why do we even learn about a baker’s dozen? I mean, thirteen is far easier to say and I do not plan on becoming a baker!

            My mom pulls up with her white Audi A4, an absolutely beautiful car. The brakes screech a bit and the car rolls back abruptly, but my mom just has not gotten used to the car very much. My mom got it as a birthday present for my dad a few weeks ago, probably the only reason my mom stays married to him. My dad sure does wow my mom with gifts and that is about it. He is not a real charmer. I entered the convertible and my mom pulls away. The whole drive was silent, not an uncommon drive home from school, but I think it would be nice to hear “hi sweetie how was your day?” I mean she says it from time to time, but I do not think she cares, especially when she immediately turns up the radio as a follow up on the questionnaire.

            Once we got home, I walked in, followed by my mom. I went to my room, she went to wherever she wanted to go, and I did not really care. I fell into my beanbag chair and started playing on my Xbox.




The End

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