I love mondays, they suck ass

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You
Grampa

Grampa Tom👨🏼‍🦳🕺
What?

You
Quick question

Grampa Tom👨🏼‍🦳🕺
Um... yes?

You
How do you patch a bullet wound

Grampa Tom👨🏼‍🦳🕺
Kid are you okay??!

You
Haha
Never

Grampa Tom 👨🏼‍🦳🕺
No seriously are you okay?

You
It for a skool project

Grampa Tom 👨🏼‍🦳🕺
Um okay, let me ask my doctor friend.

You
K

You dig your fingers into the wound on your right calf, trying to dig the bullet out and not to pass out from pain. Your phone pings, signalling that Grampa Tom had texted you back, sending a YouTube link on how to patch a bullet would with no medical supplies needed.

You stumble back to your parents house after patching your bullet wound. Your parents are on a child-free vacation, leaving you and the snake (who's name was Jeffrey) alone for two weeks, which could be good or bad, depending on if you wanted to channel your inner Lucy Gray Baird and drop the bright green snake down someone's dress.

You stow your black jumpsuit and mask in an old converse shoebox in the back of your closet where it was almost guaranteed to not be found before falling on your bed and pass out.

###

Your alarm clock rings and you wake up from a dream about Rosetta from disney fairies facing off against the entirety camp half blood who wanted to eat Voldemort's shoes.

You look in the mirror and groan. Fuck. It's Monday.

Thirty minutes later, you run out the door, wearing a Beatles t-shirt and ripped jeans.

You throw down your board and hop on. Damn, you didn't have breakfast. Oh well, guess you'll have to starve. And on top of that, you're late.

You burst into the classroom carrying your skateboard, and you sit in your seat, just as the teacher calls you name for attendance, so technically you're not late.

"Y/n Yln?"

"Here!" You reply breathlessly.

The teacher peers at you over her glasses and wrinkles her nose. "Mmkay."

This is gonna be such a shitty week.

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