My Answer is You

1. Welcome to My Life

Beep-beep. Beep-beep.

Ugh...I groan, reaching out my hand toward my alarm clock in an attempt to turn it off. My hand misses it. Again, I extend my hand, and finally I press the button. I sigh in relief, satisfied with my small win, and open my heavy eyes. I stare into the ceiling for a few minutes, taking in the fact that I am still alive. The thought of last night flashes my mind. A heavy feeling forms in my heart, and once again my mind clouds with emptiness. I don't really want to get out of bed. I have no energy. It's not that I feel lazy or sleepy, I just have no motivation to continue living throughout the day. I don't want to go to school and have to experience another torture tactic of my tormenter.

But deep down I knew I had to get up, I'd be disappointing my parents more than I disappoint them already, wouldn't I? In all honesty, I feel bad for them. They have to see my hideous face every day. Compared to my beautiful older sister, I'm nothing. Mom and Dad always tell me to be more like my sister. She was great in her education, she obeyed Mom and Dad's every order, she got married to a rich man. And even now, she is doing well in life. I'm just so, so envious even though I shouldn't be. After all, she's my sister. All I can do is sit to the side and watch my parents adore her.

Oh well, I can't do much about anything in my life, can I? You may be thinking: well it's your life. You have full control over what you want to do or say. Wrong. I'm not in control of anything in my life. And if I'm in control of something, it'll most likely be very little control. Think about it this way: I'm not the main character in my life, I'm just the side character. Is it sad? Sometimes it is. But that doesn't bother me as much as the events that take place in my life.

I exit my room, then descend the marble staircase after I'd finished changing into my school uniform. I walk into the kitchen. It's spacious, gorgeous, and clean as usual, but something is missing. My parents, I think to myself. They're gone again, nowhere to be seen. I brush the feeling off, remembering it's the new normal. I'm still not used to my parents leaving every morning to their important meetings. They have a good job, that's why we're rich. It's time for me to understand that soon nobody will be there to stick around with me in life. That's what I'm afraid of. I shake my head when tears started to well up in my eyes. I'm such a big baby. There's no way in hell I'd ever be able to live life on my own, I think to myself. My eyes fall upon the scarlet carpet leading to the grandfather clock at the end of the long hallway. There, on the walls, hang valuable framed paintings on each wall. Each time I look at this hallway I'm mesmerized even though I live in this house. No, house wouldn't do it justice, mansion. You heard me right, I live in a mansion. So what if I do? My life isn't better one bit. I'm still treated less than human everyday.

Once again, my eyes fall on the grandfather clock at the end of the hallway. My parents enjoy living luxuriously, but they also like keeping old things that they grew up with. I like that. It's nice to have things that you really loved when you were younger around even when you're all grown up. But can I really relate to this? Do I have anything that is truly memorable in my 15 years of life? Not really, well, nothing I can even remember.

Ding! Dong! the grandfather clock blares so loud that it made me jump.

"Shit!" I exclaim. It's already 8:00 A.M. "I'm gonna be late!"

I have only a few seconds left before I'll miss the bus and from there I'd have to watch the bus drive away like the fool I am. I really don't want that, especially for my second day of high school at Greenwood High--one of the most prestigious schools here in California. Freshman year was hell enough, imagine this year, sophomore year. Honestly, it's not school itself that makes me want to kill myself, it's the people at school. Yesterday I saw some familiar faces--faces that I wanted to forget.

I slip on my sneakers and grab my backpack, then bolt out the front doors. I rush down the marble steps of my house and sprint down the clean sidewalk while the fragrant air hits my face. I enjoy the scenery and take everything in--the big, beautiful, perfectly mowed lawn instills some tranquility within me. Thanks, Mother Nature, it's what I need right now.

The thing is I'm not an athlete and I'm definitely not tall--I'm only 5'2. But even with my short stubby legs, I can run faster than most people. I hear the loud steam emitting from the bus, which signals to me that the bus was about to leave.

At this point I run like my life depended on it, which it honestly did.

My eyes catch the bus as the doors were closing. My heart is literally pounding in my chest right now--I do not want to miss that bus! And I'm not planning to. As I run, I start to pick up my speed. That's another thing I can do. I'm a very energetic person. I don't show it much nor do I put it to good use. I could also run for a long time before getting worn out.

The bus begins to move. Not on my watch. I finally reach the big gates, which is the entrance to my property. I swing the gates wide open and quickly kick it from behind me so it goes back into place. From there, I chase after the bus like a crazy person would.

I run side to side with the bus waving my arms in the air and screaming my head off trying to catch the driver's attention. To my dismay, the bus picks up speed and it zooms off. I start slowing down abruptly then stop in my tracks. I look down at my sneakers. That's it, I thought to myself. I lost the bus. I'm officially dead. The next thing I hear was an ear-splitting screech from the bus. I look up almost immediately to find the bus perched on the side of the road, with the doors wide open. I stand there for a few moments, looking totally dumbfounded. The bus driver sticks his head out and shouts, "Well, are you coming in or what?"