**When Heaven Jones is reluctantly sent to a notorious Boarding School in New York, her once-charming world turns dark and unpredictable. Surrounded by unruly peers and devoid of security or order, Heaven's life takes a daunting turn. However, an un...
They say life isn't a movie, and I say that's bullshit. When someone thinks of a movie, they think of a story's main character, conflict, setting, or moral, and your life has all of that. Everyone has a story to tell, from those who lived their best life, to those who's been through the wringer. The difference between a person's life and an actual movie is that reality is our director. We can't control most of the things that happen to us. I could only imagine what life would be like if we had control over our lives more than we actually do. Imagine how many problems would happen, the universe itself would collapse.
But at this point, I didn't care. I'm sitting here, tears streaming down my face, as I glance at my almost empty room, everything of mine packed in big brown boxes stacked up in front of my room door.
It was all an accident, hanging out with my friends at the wrong time. Drove my friends to the bank, and then got blackmailed. I'd do anything for the people who are close to me, but no way did I think I was going to be a getaway driver, and the only reason why I didn't get into too much trouble is because the police had understood that I was framed, I was lost, I was scared. I chose friends over morals, and that's what I hate the most about myself. I don't know if it's to fit in, and I don't know if it's to seem tough, but now I'm paying the price for it. My mom thinks I'm losing my mind. So now, she's throwing me away, shipping me off to New York, a boarding school. "Don't judge the place before if you've never been" she says "It may be fun" she says. I mean, maybe it will be, but I've heard some heinous things about Bronx Haven Heights.
Rumor has it, it's almost not a boarding school to begin with. There's no discipline, no support, no nothing. Just a bunch of kids doing whatever they want. If it's true what people say about the school, then it's absolutely pointless. That's like going to Physical therapy for a broken leg, but you're supposed to do intense jogging without a cast. I was a hair strand away from begging my mom to let me stay here, with her, and the rest of my family. But I've tried that already, and it only made things worse. So now, I have to be a "big girl" about it, and pretend like everything's ok, because if I don't, I'm mentally ill, or there's gotta be something wrong with me. I threw myself all over the house, I combed my hair, and threw on a big white T-shirt with jeans and my all black sneakers. I usually care about how I get ready, but as I looked in the mirror, I simply did not care. And it showed.
"Heaven...Earth to Heaven!!" I heard my mom shout from downstairs. Wow, that's perfect, just the voice I wanted to hear. I ran downstairs with my suitcase to see mom with her coat all her things, looking on the floor, avoiding eye contact. "You ready? Come on, we have a flight to catch."
"What about the boxes?" I look over the stairway to see my them in my room stacked up like a tower near my room door. "They're being shipped there."
I nod my head, and sprint out the door, I avoided looking in her direction, and I avoided speaking. I didn't want her to see the tears in my eyes, or the crack in my voice. My throat started to hurt, and all of sudden, it felt like I couldn't breathe.
While on the road, I started out the blurry car window at the droplets of rain that rolled down like tears. I didn't look my mom's way. Me and my mom never had the best relationship, especially after she chose drugs over me, just like what Grandma did to her. I used to always swear that I would break the cycle, and that I would be nothing like my mom. The years that I've wasted are nothing to the tears that I've tasted, and I would never want my future children to go through the same thing. My mother never loved me, at least that's what I always thought. All she cared about was herself, and I was nothing but a distraction. Maybe that's the real reason I'm spending the rest of my High School life hours away.
Suddenly, my sadness turned into anger, and my palms started to sweat.
"You'll be fine, Heaven." I heard my mom say. "I'm trying to help. You'll only be in New York, that's only 3-4 hours away from here in Maryland."
I had the urge to throw her out the car, or scream "Shut up you Liar! This isn't helping me. You just want to get rid of me!" But what does she always say? 'If I wanted to get rid of you, I would have, a long time ago'. I simply decided to stay silent. "You can hate me all you want. One day, you'll understand." She said, with such a calm voice. "Yeah, I hope so." I mumble to myself. I meant that, I hoped to one day understand from her point of view, even if it hurts me.
When we got to the Airport, my nerves really started to kick in, and everything was happening so fast. And the closer we got to my flight, the wider my mom's smile got. After all the security checks and ticket scans we were finally sitting down, waiting for the flight. I looked out the window, looking at all the planes taking off and landing.
"Isn't this exciting?!" Mom squeed, nudging me with her shoulder. I scoot away.
"Come on, lighten up a little! Let me see my baby smile!"
I gave her a half smirk, and looked back out the window. She scooted over closer to me and gave me a big hug. "This will be good for you. I'll come visit during the holidays."
I still didn't say anything, I just looked out the window, feeling pretty numb.
"I love you."
"I love you too." I mumble, so quiet, I bet she didn't hear me. A few minutes of hugging I hear a voice over the intercom. "Now we will be boarding Gate E1."
I immediately get up and walk to the line with my group. "I'll miss you!" I heard my mother say behind me.
I don't say anything, because I know I'll miss her, and I hate that I'll miss her. Why does that happen? When your parents do wrong, scream at you, shout at you, bully you, you don't hate them, you hate yourself. Why is it like that? Or is it just me?
As I made my way through the plane, I tried to clear my mind. There is no reason to complain anymore, all that's left is to accept. I looked out the window, at the cloudy sky, it was no longer raining, but the clouds still looked heavy.
I rest my head against the window, and drift off to sleep.
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