Broken Hero

Mornings Suck

February 21, 2015
6:30 am

"Come on, Hero! We're gonna be SO late!"
I open my eyes groggily to find my youngest brother, Ash Ryan Dunne, jumping up and down on my bed.
"Dude back off," I mumble. "We're gonna be late for school!" He cries, then runs out the room, probably on a mission to go pester some other innocent soul outta bed.
I groan and check the clock. Actually, I have plenty of time, but whatever. My brother's pretty paranoid about stuff like that sometimes.
Yawning, I haul my ass outta bed and jump in the shower. The hot water jolts me awake. It feels good, and a while after washing, I let the steaming water cascade over my shoulders and closed eyelids.
All too soon, my mom knocks on the door, yelling, "Hero, get out, child!"
I obey, shutting the water off.
No one's called me my real name in a long time. I love Hero, don't get me wrong, but I also like the sound of MY name, Jordan James Dunne.
I earned the name Hero when I was in sixth grade, three years ago.
It was the end of the day, and we were loading onto our busses. One kid wasn't paying attention, and walked right in front of a leaving bus.
I pushed her outta the way, and got myself hit.
It freaking hurt! I had a concussion, a broken arm, two broken ribs, and was actually in a light coma for three days.
But as soon as I went back to school, everyone called me a hero.
Which is how I was nicknamed Hero, even by my teachers. It's pretty weird, but once someone in such a small town gets called a name once, it almost immediately sticks. Hey, I mean Hero is better than some of the other names I've seen kids get stiffed with.
Now, back to the present.
I dry off and get dressed.
Blue jeans, like always, and a white tee. I don't believe in skinny jeans.
I pull on ankle socks and my blue Converse. My hair gets tied up into a messy bun (which takes me a million tries. Not so effortless, that "effortless" messy bun.), and an extra band goes around my wrist. Never know when you or someone else will need one!
I grab my bag, and race out to the car, where my mom and brothers are waiting.
"Hero, that was too long. Next time I'll turn the water heater off and you can wash yourself that way," my mom scolds.
My brothers snicker, and I smile and roll my eyes.
My mom always drops us off at school. First the boys to their elementary school, then me to my high. Then she drops herself off at work.
Ash is seven, and he's in second grade. My other brother, and middle child, is nine, and in fourth grade.
We call that one Skye Paul.
Both my brothers are mature for their ages. They are brave, outspoken, trusting, and pretty funny.
They are good leaders, too, a wonderful trait.
Meanwhile, my dad is on his way to work, in the other car.
I yawn and stretch in my seat.
Hero would really like to go back to bed.