life's stepping stool

The "Imaginary" truth

I'm not prepared for this. now the 24, or more specifically 13 hours that have passed to the point I have to go to school now. How does a person who lost their father dress in public? Am I supposed to be sad or happy?It's like nothing I do will be good, like I'll get judged for everything.I already get judged for existing and I hate to say it but now it's one less person to judge me. I can imagine my new name now, Fatherless Lexis.

  It's mind-boggling how many simpletons managed to make it to high school.Like really, why come to school, stoned, at 8 am? why not at least wait until 9? But, I can't bash the school I guess. It's not the school as much as it is the students, the school is actually nice. they have all the basics, the principal, AP, front office woman, nurse, counselor, etc. But they have a therapist, literally. I'm there throughout the whole school year. by the end of school, I was in Mrs. Neek's office more than in class. Can you really blame me though? No, Exactly.Without her, I might've taken my life a bit ago. School stress, people, family stress, it's all so overwhelming. She was there to help me take the stress away. She was my peace throughout the day, she made me hate people a little more before I realized nobody at Yohonna high is like her.

  10 am on the dot she might as well have cookies set out because I am on my way with a smirk on my face ready to have the talk of a lifetime. At this point, it's been at least 50 lifetimes. good or not, I managed to surprise her with everything I told her. My life sounds like a made-up movie, maybe it is, and that's what makes it so much worst. Because like the movie, I have no one.I'm just waiting for my prince charming to come to sweep me off of my depressing feet because if sleeping beauty can find a prince while she sleeps, I don't know why I can't. so I can have one person. I never bothered to track down my mother, if she didn't want me then she wouldn't want me now. So it's obvious I don't know her side of the family. I never left the house so my father's side basically forgot my existence, I might not even go to the funeral. I'm just going to hear, "I'm sorry for your lost..", "You look just like him!", and "My condolences." just all the basics.

  I'd flip a coin to see if they mean anything. I can see myself now, with an emotionless expression, my hair flowing down my back shining with the sunlight, a simple black dress that goes a bit passed my knees, in the from row when they call me up to say some words. I'll go up to say words but everybody would look at me in awe cause i "look so much like him". personally, I only see it in the eyes, we have the same color eyes but my lashes are fuller. Anyway, though, I would probably say, "As you all may know, Im Alexis, Alexis Katrina Johnson. For those who don't know, I am Max johnson's only child. My father was a good man, he was friendly, wouldn't hurt a fly, and he wouldn't dare to break a soul..he'd rather break himself. That's for everyone except me. He claims he's better than me because he can socialize, he says im as undependable as my mother who left when I was born without a trace. We would argue, he would go out drinking with his friends, then come back as nothing happened and this happened every other day, but he never told that but that's if he ever mentioned me." and then I'd walk out of the funeral and walk home. Or at least that's how I'd imagine it.