Table of Contents

1 Hot..

 

2 Change

 

3 Going Home

 

? Life Happened

 

Hot..

 

A mosquito buzzed around the classroom as the afternoon sun beated through the windows making the air stifling hot, so that it drained all the energy of those who sat there. As it zoomed down a couple of rows, papers pressed along the tables and uneasy scratching of pencils. Finally it rested on a rim of a glass where water droplets stuck; enough to drink a fill. It sat for a good five minutes cleaning it's small black body, clear wings, dipping it's prickly forelegs washing it's face. A sudden wind from a hand cast it to take flight again. This time landing on half written essay; “Smack.”

“You killed it.” the boy whispered to him. “So?” he replied hardly moving his mouth. He already got in trouble earlier that week, and wasn't going to get into even more if he could help it.

It was the last heat from the blissful two month vacation, and why most kids hated going back to school; it was still a long way from loathing it. The boy next to him, kept on and on about the fly, like it was someone's pet or something. 'I can't believe he killed it, he actually killed it...', normally he would of told the boy to shut up, but for some reason it's always just him that's always sent to the principal's office.

Okay sure, he dyed his hair black that covered half his face on the last day of school and he got in a fight when high and mighty Samual Mitchell said he had horrible parents, cause they never show up to anything he has ever participated in. Sure they miss out on a lot of things, but It's not their fault.

Then there's the glare....even the nerds and geeks avoid him like he has some other vile virus and the girls treat him like he has every STD on the planet even though he never done it. 

Seriously, sometimes he wonders why he is one the anxiety meds, when everyone around him either needs a good kick to get their ego straight or they need pills more than he does; just the chill version.

Change

Just then the bell rang. He threw his essay on the Ms.L's desk and joined all the other students who spilled into the hall in a mixture of chaos and excitement. It was Friday, and already plans were being made for the Fall Festival which happens at the end of the first quarter of the year.Two days of bliss were waiting for him; now if only he could get to his locker without running into...

"Hey Fallen!" Leave it to Samual to remember the time when you fell down a flight of stairs in 3rd grade.

"Yeah, Chip?" Immediately Sam stopped smiling, if it was one thing he was conscientious about was his chipped tooth. It made him feel better though since he was the one who damaged that perfect grin, a couple girls actually turned him down because of it.

"Very funny, you have money?" His sly smirk, think he can get anything he wants.

"You're funny, haven't I told you that I'm helping with the bills at my house?"

"You're BSing me." It took all that he had to not smile than, as he saw the irritation on Sam's face.

"Oh, so want to go to the bank then? I can show you my balance."

The best part of this phrase was for one it was a matter of fact that his account had absolutely nothing in it; plus the other saving account for college he couldn't touch til he was 18.

"You being smart with me now?" He sighed...

"You know I'm also known as Broken, so are you actually surprised I have no money?"

Sam growled, but he knew he couldn't push it further, no money meant no money.

"What you need it for?" If and when he did have money, he at least wanted to know what Sam was using it for; other than boasting to his friends about how he can get easy cash or bribing girls for dates who otherwise wouldn't put up with his ego.

"None of you're business." And he stormed off, which unusual for him. Not that he minded not having to pick up his stuff all over the floor as he normally did when he encountered Sam.

Going Home

With a couple of binders tucked under his left arm; he slung his denium bag over his right shoulder. Than slammed his locker shut  and clicked the lock.  As he did his best to twist and turn through crowds; ignoring the giggling and looks of disgust as he passed. The stairs were horrible as several people almost runned him over as if the steps were a jogging track or something. Once he reached the ground floor he made a right turn out the double doors. Outside the doors were on a rather wide concrete platform, as school grounds were made up of several small hills. He took a left down another flight of stairs toward the school office which in front had a bike rack. The only place he found that was safe enough for his only mode of transportation.

 

That is if he didn't want to wait til six'o clock when his mom got off from work. As for his father holds two jobs ever since his younger brother was born. He remembered on his 8th birthday he got Thomas' bike from next door and to make it his own; his mom decided to paint it a deep blue with white flames. In fact he still uses the bike, granted it was orginally too big for him. The colors were faded now, but still he liked it all the same.

 

Then he opened his shoulder bag and slide his binders inside; before snapping it closed again. He took off a thin silver necklace with a small key attacted to it; which opened the lock on his bike. He took the cord in his left hand and swung back his stuff as he pulled the bike backward out of the rack. After looking both ways; he made his way accross the parking lot and once at the gate, he got on and pedaled down the street.

 

 

Life Happened

A lot of things have changed for him over the years.

 

For one...*stops here for now.*

Impressum

Texte: Elinor Skinner
Bildmaterialien: Elinor Skinner
Lektorat: Kayla Stiles
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 09.01.2014

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