It was my second day at school, and I already felt like a pop star. My morning was easy. I woke my self up with music from Ke$ha, ate a slice of cake, took a swig of Mountain Dew, and off to my bus. My grandmother got a job at Wal-Mart to bring in the extra money. So she would always work the early shift. It was fine with me, I mean, what could go wrong then getting slit in the throat while screaming, yet, only feeling the warm, iron-tasting blood go down your throat but yet coming back outside of you by then three-inch gash just freshly opened like a pack of bread before it gets mold ridden. Yet, at the same time, there is nothing worse than being me and my crappy life I continue to live everyday. I don't understand I just jump off the balcony to the right of my room and have my head land om the cold, February concrete. Watching the blood go over ice is like vinegar and olive oil. The ice always stays at the bottom while the blood just patiently waits for summer to arrive so it can absorb itself into the fresh cut summer grass. I love being me.
I walk into the school, New Dina Junior High. The motto is "Home of the brave and the bold and intellectual". Bull crap. Junior High all together is an intellectual wasteland. You may learn, but there is always a secret in between the lines of the Junior High Book of Life. Yet, I continue my journey through the winding hallways of the 4 level school and continue. With around 6000 seventh and eight graders, you need a big school. I continue to push my way through the crowd. Ah, the smell of testosterone and menstruating 13 year-old girls. What a delightful scent.
I eventually pull my self out of the adolescent crowd, and find myself at my small locker. I love it though, it's like my home away from home. I slam the metal door, and it makes a crashing sound against the cool, slick metal. I began to walk to my class, but a teacher stops me. But it wasn't a teacher, it was the principal. A 6 foot, 9 inch towering monster. He had a 5 o'clock after shadow, smelled like men's cologne. His dark brown eyes stared down at me. The muscles in his button-down shirt bulged as he handed a paper to me and spoke in a deep,booming,voice. "I'm your principal, Mr. Byrd, and this your schedule". He handed me a piece of paper that almost looked like my transcripts, but it wasn't. It was my schedule of classes I had.
DESTINY CALLOWAY
1 PERIOD: Biology TEACHER: Kellie Cammy SEMESTER: 1 CREDITS: 1
1 PERIOD: School Paper TEACHER: Joylynn Clerk SEMESTER: 2 CREDITS: 0
2 PERIOD: English TEACHER: Cameron Karr SEMESTER: ALL YEAR
3 PERIOD: German 1 TEACHER: Marcus Gruerman SEMESTER: 1 CREDITS: 1
3 PERIOD: Creative Writing/Novel Making TEACHER: Tammy Brown SEMESTER: 2 CREDITS: 0
LUNCH BREAK
4 PERIOD: Algebra 1 TEACHER: Lilly Tuscon SEMESTER: ALL YEAR CREDITS: 1
5 PERIOD: World Studies TEACHER: Darren Faviers SEMESTER: ALL YEAR CREDITS: 1
6 PERIOD: Science TEACHER: Betty Karr SEMESTER: ALL YEAR CREDITS: 0
" What is World Studies?" I asked. Mr. Byrd replied back, "A high-school class that replaces your average seventh-grade social studies, enjoy your day Ms. Calloway". That was a formal ending, I reminded myself. I was never called a Mrs. by a teacher or principal before, I felt so old. I am (still) at my locker, continually pulling out books of my never-ending locker. then, I get approached by a friend of mine, Tabitha, and along with her, came Greyson, her boyfriend, he seemed to dislike me, but he hid it in his eyes. "Hey Destiny!!" She said in her, happy, preppy, Friday mood. "Did you get the algebra homework finished?" Her tone of voice constantly annoyed me for some odd reason, but yet, I liked it. It reminded me of some friends back in Burrowsville. I wish I still lived their, staying with my boyfriend, who so I suddenly left without warning, and a cruel break-up message over text. I remember letting the the drops of tears landing on the screen of my phone. It was cruel how I suddenly left him behind after a week of my parents getting brutally murder, then my grandfather along with it. But what do you do? Drop by his house with a letter like in those low-cut budget movie? Or meet again, together, in fourteen years like in the book, "the Notebook?" No. sometimes, you have to do things the hard way, and that is cruelly breaking up him over text message. It's sad how I didn't get to say goodbye.
Tabitha interrupted my trance. "Are you coming to Biology or what?!" God girl! I'm coming. She always had the certain pleasure of being pushy. I walk into biology, and I greeted by someone new. His name was Alec Canel. A small, short, average-type, "Call of Duty", playing guy. And he thinks he's funny, when he's not. At all.
Hey Destiny, what'cha doin' there? He spoke in his nonchalant, easy-going voice. His tone made my skin tingle with ants, skittering everywhere, biting, chewing at the raw skin they pluck off with their inhuman like nature. I sighed a sigh of agony, and responded. Nothing, Alec. My tone was firm, ending off with the flick of my tongue, exaggerating the "ick" sound at the end of his name. god, I just wanted to kill almost as much as Snake wanted to kill me.
"Welp," Alec had said, "I hope you have a great day!" He had a smile, that reached from ear-to-ear, almost like "The Joker" or just another pedophile living in his mother's basement, waiting to strike the next 13 year-old boy down the street. Mrs. Cammy spoke in her loud, obnoxious voice, saying "come adolescents, take your seats." After she spoke, I saw Chloe Gardner, a cheerleader, and Josh Gordon, a year-round sports player (it was track season, so that was his sport rite now) exchange a intriguing, sexual look. Almost if they had....Wait, no they wouldn't! But, Chloe's parents weren't home last nite. Maybe they di-. My thought was dismissed as Mrs. Cammy called attendance. Each spoke in the same, happy voice as they usually would on a Friday.
Class dragged on, then, (Thank God) the bell finally rang. Tabitha came up to me after class, "Here's your invitation to my party tonite!" Wow, I've been here two days and already invited to a party. I guess I'm just awesome. "Really!?" I sounded too shocked. "Thanks! But I didn't get you a present." My voice trailed off into sadness. "Oh, that's ok! You being there is a good enough present." The smile came back upon my face. "Aw! Ok, I'll see you tonite!" As she left, Greyson came up to me and slammed into the lockers. My face turned bright red, and I felt a warm liquid drip off my face. "What the hell!?" I screamed at him. "My bad" he spoke in a sly tone, "I guess I tripped a little." He left, with a smirk on his face. I told myself to hold back to not push over the rails, hoping he lands and cracks his thick skull open on the freshly waxed tile. What joy it would come to my heart to heard his screams of agony cry out over the school. And to watch the janitor scrape his brain remnants off the walls. I guess I'll just have to wait till tonite.
I got my stuff for my next class, and gladly awaited for the party tonite, to think of ways to get back at Greyson.
