Six Feet Under

1.

Waking up has never been the easiest job for me. Especially, when I am only able to sleep one and sometimes miraculously two hours before my alarm is about to go off. My eye bags can speak for themselves. The room is dark because the curtains are drawn, I can see the sunlight trying to peek through but I would not let it unless I want to. I like my room in the dark. I tried to count till fifty to make the laziness go away but it did not do shit, if anything, it made me even more exhausted. I want to just sleep but I don't want to be late for school either. I let out a dramatic exhale and left my bed although my body begged me not to.

Taking a shower is not in my cards today although it does not seem necessary right now to take one since I took one yesterday. I know it must sound gross but I promise I am trying.

I freshened up and decided to wear the same white long-sleeved t-shirt I have worn millions of times and the same comfortable jeans that I have also slept in a million of times. I made my way downstairs to find my father reading a newspaper on the couch and sipping his coffee. I could hear the sound of mixer grinder from the kitchen so that is where mom must be. I cleared my throat slightly to let him know I am in the same room as he is.

His body stiffened and he realized he has to try to act like a father for a few minutes now. Last night he came home late and most probably drunk so he won't be saying more than five words since he knows that I know what he did. It is weird how I know everything about my parents, what they do, what they are like, what do they like and dislike. About their crippling marriage and their urgent need to find themselves a therapist before they either kill themselves or drive their only child to kill herself.

"Good morning." My voice came out all awkward.

"Morning." It sounded like it costed him his remaining ten bucks to say that. I ignored it. Like always.

I heard footsteps coming out of the kitchen and I turned around to see my mom with my bag of lunch. I don't eat my breakfast so early in the morning. Especially, if I have school. It makes me feel like I might throw up. I don't usually eat my lunch at school because it makes me feel like I might throw up. So, I usually eat some snacks in the evening and dinner. Welcome to the life of a normal depressed slash anxious teen.

"Here is your lunch." She said in a hurry like she is late for her flight.

I took it from her while muttering a silent thank you. Before I could step out of the door my mom said, "Paige, work hard at school, okay. There should not be any excuse this time. We don't work for this."

I looked at her and gave her a silent nod. And closed the door behind me. Just in case you don't know, let me tell you about it. In my math test I scored a C+ and that did not sit well my parents. I worked hard for my test but I could not get a grade that my parents desired but that is fine. I know I worked hard and did my best. After thinking about my mother's words for a few more minutes I could feel my throat getting a bit tight and my eyes a bit moist.

I tried hard.

I bit the inside of my cheeks hard enough that I could taste something metallic but at least it kept me from crying. I inhaled sharply and blinked away the blurriness that my tears caused. It is a fifteen minutes-walk from my house to my school. I reached my school and saw Brianna standing near my locker and gave me the widest smiles I have ever seen. She came running towards me and embraced me in a hug. It feels so good when someone is genuinely happy to see you.

"I was waiting for you and look what I did." She said while dragging me towards my locker.

I saw where she was pointing at and it made me laugh. She pasted a small photo of Michael Scott on my locker with the quote, "Should have burned this place down when I had the chance."

"It's true. I should have." I joked. Or maybe not.

"I would have been your accomplice." She said while swinging her arms around my neck.

"You know what a kick ass duo we could be. We can be the next...no, we will be the only Paige and Brianna." She said the usual Brianna stuff and I listened because I love listening to her. Even if she does not always make sense.

"You are really energetic today." I said while taking out my English book from my locker because that is the first class that I have. And I am thankful for that.

"Listen, I have to balance us out. I have to be opposite of what you are. Also, how are you feeling this morning?" She asked the last sentence in a singing voice.

"Better, I guess. I don't know. Taking it one day at a time." I said honestly.

"And I am proud of you for that." She replied with honesty too.

Soon the bell rang for our first class and we headed to opposite directions. I have always enjoyed my English class but there is a reason behind it. My English teacher whose name is Mr. Edward Harlow once caught me crying. In the library. I had a panic attack before my Math class and I did not know where to go. In the washroom there were other girls and if they would have noticed me crying it would have been pretty embarrassing so I went to the library because it usually stayed empty. So, I went to a corner and my whole face was sweaty and I did not know what to do.

I heard someone making their way towards the corner I was at and I tried to blink away the tears but it was too late. My eyes were pooled with tears so I quickly pulled out a book from the shelf and started turning its pages as if I was looking for something.

"Miss. Martin?" He said and his voice was authoritative and calm.

"Yes, Mr. Harlow." My voice trembled.

I could see right through his face that he knew I was crying. He saw that I was just pretending to look through something. He knew I was pretending to be okay, that I was trying to hide away my tears. And the best part about it was that he let me.