Decay

1.

CHARLIE GRAY
Monday, April 3, 6:44 a.m.
Notice how the sun hides behind the houses in the morning. How it gives off a blue tint. It's an ocean over the neighborhood. The cars that drive by our house are like the sounds of the waves on the beach. It makes me feel calm. The sun hides, so I don't have to.
I moved into this new house. My mom and I needed a new place to stay after the divorce. Mom and Dad were always on and off, so she decided to cut it. The new house is nice. It's fenced with wires. Not the ones that electrocute you, thank God, but the ones that are weaved into a nice diamond pattern. Unlike our old house, this one has a front yard. It's big enough to fit maybe four school buses. The yard is full of green grass and a sidewalk that leads to our front door. The front yard would've been perfect if the dog didn't tear holes into the ground. The house itself is a beige color, like freshly-cooked oatmeal. It'd be great if it smelt like it too.
Deciding what to wear is hard. Especially on your first day of school. Especially on your first day of school on your first week in a new town. I decided to go simple. A black T-shirt and khaki pants. It's not too simple, right? Oh God, it looks like a school uniform. What if people think I look–
"Charlie, you better head off before you're late on your first day!" My mom yells from wherever she is, interrupting my thoughts.
"Yeah, um, okay!" I respond. Crap. Guess this is my outfit of the day. I run out of my room and down the hall. My mom is in the living room, sitting on the couch. She's already unpacking.
"You ready?"
"Uh, yeah," I reply. She rises from the sofa and hugs me. She then pushes me off of her, wraps herself in a blanket, and hurries me towards the door. Before I leave, I grab my skateboard.
"Go, go, go!" She rushes, "Stop slouching." I straighten myself for a bit but eventually return to my typical slouch.
Finally, I'm out the door. I hold my skateboard in my left hand. When I was younger, my parents tried to switch my dominant hand to my right, but it never worked. My dad said something about it being bad luck. My mom just thought it was a hassle.
I walk away from the house, closer to the not-so-electrical fence. Before I step foot outside of it, I turn around and wave to my mom. She's wrapped like a burrito and has a soft smile. Her short hair dances in the light breeze. She's probably looking at me and thinking, 'Oh, let my boy be alright.' I'd be surprised if she didn't go inside and stress-clean after this. We've been to a lot of places. Mom would always move somewhere far for a bit while she and Dad were taking breaks. We've been to Arizona, New Mexico, Kansas, and California. Mom had family everywhere. She decided to move away from everyone this time.
"Bye, Mom!" I wave a bit harder now.
"Be on your best behavior!"
"We'll see about that." I've never gotten in trouble once. But who knows, maybe North Dakota will change me.
    I throw my skateboard on the floor and hop on. I start pushing away towards the school. Mom showed me where it was, so I was familiar. I look back and see my mom still watching me go down. I throw a smile at her.
There is one thing that this place and El Paso have in common. Dogs. They are everywhere. In yards, in streets, in front of you. They all try to scare you away with their ferocious growls and yelps, but it never works because half of them look like they should be dead and decomposed.
I go faster on my skateboard. It feels like I'm flying now. I dodge pieces of asphalt that are supposed to be in the road. I eye each piece, seeing how many points I'll gain if I avoid them and how many points I'll lose if it causes my face to slide across the street. Ten points, twenty points, five and a half points.
I see something that is not a rock. As I get closer, I know that it's a book. The book is flawed. Papers are sticking out in many directions, and the cover is falling off. I notice words on the cover and read it. The outside reads Jason Warner. I can't tell if it's a diary, but I don't want to open it to find out. Maybe it's someone from school. I took off my bag and put the journal inside. I threw my pack back on and tried to take a step forward, but before I could successfully move, someone bumps into me, causing me to hit the floor. The landing wasn't terrible, so I tried to get up but got pushed to the ground again.
"What's your problem?! Did you not see me walking in front of you?" flames a heated voice above me. I look up to see a girl around my age. She was gorgeous. She had dark hair that flowed freely around her shoulders. Her skin was darker than mine, patched with freckles. Everything about her was so eye-catching, but when I met her eyes, they darted at me with a biting intent.
"Oh, uh, I'm so sorry. I apologize. I didn't see you there. My mistake. Sorry..." Oh God, why am I talking so much?