“So how are you feeling about going to school?” My mum asked, turning to me with a smile on my face as she tried to provoke a conversation. I shot her a ‘are you kidding me’ look. It was so obvious. Yet she had to dig a little deeper.
“Just fine,” I muttered when my father nudged me from the side. Dropping the handle on my fork, I stood up and paused when my parents looked at me with quizzical expressions on their faces. “I might as well go now. I don’t want to be late after all.”
My mum was about to say something, probably to hold me back and have a good and healthy breakfast but my father shook his head at her before saying, “Alright son. Do you want me to walk you?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I’ll go by myself. It’s only a few blocks away.” Giving a little wave goodbye, I backed out of the kitchen and slowly headed back upstairs to my room to retrieve my backpack. I really dreaded first days. Being new meant being stared at, pointed at, and oh how can I forget – gossiped about. And I hated being the spot light. I detested fame with the whole of my being. Yet I always found a way to be known.
Slowly trudging back downstairs, I shouted, “Bye mum and dad!” They yelled a goodbye back at me as I opened the front door, taking a step out of the house.
Cushions of mist clouded the sky, only small streams of sunlight filtering through pocket holes of the vast blue that stretched above. It somehow seemed to fit the mood I was in and I couldn’t help but for a smile to come onto my lips. One thing that seemed to go with the flow of what I felt – the weather. But something that was subject to change at any second.
Sighing, I slipped my hands into the front pockets, looking up expectantly. When would the sky cheat on me as well?