| Luke Friedman | Grand Army

"Do you not like my boobs?"

beep... beep... beep...

I groan as I throw my hand on top of my alarm clock and shove my head further into my pillow. Today is the day, the start of another year at Grand Army High, but as far as I can tell that's just another way of adults controlling our futures, which I personally am not the biggest fan of.

If you haven't gathered already I don't like being controlled and I sure as hell HATE high school. 

However, my thoughts of murdering my English teacher are cut short by my fat ass younger sister Abby launching herself onto my bed and crushing my ribs in the process. Abby is thirteen and is starting that awful process called puberty which she would call the "acquisition of reproductive capability" as an excuse to treating me like shit every day also what the fuck is a thirteen year old doing using language like that. I was making mud pies at that age. 

"Mum told me you are 10 minutes late for school," She says struggling to hold in a childish giggle.

"Uhh, what time is it?" I say rubbing my eyes. 

Finally letting out the echoing laugh she replies "8:10 am"

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Why didn't you tell me earlier?" I yelled jumping out of bed and running into my bathroom to see if I look somewhat decent which of course I do not. 

"You're a deep sleeper I guess." She says still laughing at my struggle. 

"Just fuck off Abby."

"Mum said you have to pay me a dollar every time you swear at me." She screams out as I am pushing her out of the doorway.

Knowing I would NEVER hear the end of it I grab a dollar bill and throw it out to her. I am about to be broke - who am I kidding I already am. 

"LEVI GET THE FUCK DOWN HERE NOW YOUR LATE!" Mum shouts up the stairs. What a hypocrite. She can't hold a solid job for more than a month.

My Mum and I are not exactly best friends like the cliche movies where we talk about our problems and get out nails done together. Yeah, not the best way to describe our relationship. We are constantly arguing which I blame for the fact that we both have strong personalities and we are each extremely stubborn but deep down I know it's because I'm angry about what happened 6 years ago.

 I'm not one to hold a grudge well scrap that I am but little innocent 10 years old me was scared and confused like anyone would be and my Mother taking my Dad's side and always defending him is what fucked me up as a kid, well mostly. 

My Dad is a hopeless drug addict that drained my Mums bank account and caused us to be neck-deep in debt - that we are still struggling from now. He would come home drunk and high to shout at me even sometimes getting so angry he would throw stuff at me and hit me. Still to this day, we haven't spoken to him since although last time I checked he was 'living' somewhere downtown. Although I can't really describe it as living. If I had to make a guess of where he is right now I would have to say blacked out on a dirty bench by the subway. 

Enough of the sob story, my Spanish teacher is going to murder me for being late to her lesson. 

I go to the toilet, brush my teeth and put simplistic makeup on not too fancy but not too casual. After spending 10 minutes that I don't have searching for my cropped white top that I was going to wear today with some washed straight leg jeans I give up put on a different oversized blacktop and walk down the stairs to leave. Strange I swear I laid that out on my beanbag yesterday. 

I slip on my white air forces and grab my car keys about to walk out the door but then I see it. MY BITCH OF A SISTER HAS MY SHIRT ON.

"You little shit", I yell dropping my keys in the process of chasing her around the house.