Daydreaming at Night

Chapter 1 - Waking up.

"Now make a wish!"

The audacity my mother has. The absolute nerve of her to make me a birthday cake after I told her I'm going to kill myself.

Up until 16, I've been homeschooled my whole life, but it wasn't until recently my parents discussed that they wanted me to assimilate myself into a quote on quote, actual school setting.

Now Dad is a professor at a private college and Mom is a therapist. Since the beginning they knew I would never last long in school. I remember how when Mom dropped me off for Pre-K I cried so much that I vomited. 

I didn't come back again. 

But then she wanted me to retry it for First grade. 

I vomited so much that I cried. 

The good thing with having a mom that's a therapist is that she's extra maternal. When I cry she comforts me and when I fail she congratulates my effort. 

"It's okay to give up if you've at least tried," she said to me on the ride home from my first and last day of grade school.

Dad took up teaching me when I dropped out of school both times and the rest of my school career. Maybe it's the professor part of him that made me address him as "Mr. Barlowe," but similarly it was the Dad part of him that still put a sticker on my assignments whenever I got a passing grade. I'm thankful to Dad for relearning education fit for a growing adolescent and proving to the state he has the qualifications to homeschool as a parent. Now that I'm older I never really took into account how tedious it must've been to separate primary school with college.

"Amari, can me and your mother speak to you?" Dad asks. Oh no. Dad only speaks to me with Mom when he needs her to serve as a liaison for something serious.

I gulp and listen.

Mom begins, "Well Mari, you know we love you—"

I raised a hand and stopped her right there. This sentence was all too familiar. Mom started out her sentence like when she thought of the wise idea to send me to middle school. Long story short; I fainted the morning I was supposed to go.

"I love you too Mom," I continued for her. "But I swear to God I will go jump off a skyscraper if you tell me you're sending me to school."

Dad shifts his eyes from me to mom and then back to me again before adjusting his framed homeschooling certification.

"I'm sending you to school."

The resolution in his eyes and firm intonation told me this is Mr. Barlowe talking and not Dad. Maybe if I faint right now they'll take it back and tell me this was just a joke. Yes!

I'm being pranked... In July. Just missed the cut off for April, but it's the only logical conclusion.

"We're serious Mari," Mom interrupts. "It'll become a problem in the long run if you plan on attending college one day. Your father can't homeschool you for that either."

"I can take online courses," I rebutted.

"You'll miss out on the authentic college experience," Dad says.

"Authentic?" I scoff. "I won't be missing out on debt, Dad.

"Mari, college isn't free if it's on a computer," Mom sighs.

I open my mouth.

"Or a laptop," she resumes.

I close my mouth. I can already taste the bile coming up.

Dad walks over to me. "Amari, you'll miss out on the most adventurous time of your life: making friends, attending social gatherings, and all the other little niches high school ensues."

Laughter replaces bile and I break out. "God Dad, just say parties."

~~~~~

I stop my lucid daydreaming and blow out my candles.

I wish for a quiet school year.