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My alarm screeches and I blindly reach over, trying to shut it off with my palm. After several languid attempts, I successfully stop my alarm from blaring and slowly open my eyes. The morning sun peeks through the blinds making subtle lines across the room, one of which happens to be directly in my eyes.
Waking up in the morning is probably one of my least favorite tasks of the day because I've come to the point where it's pretty hard to look forward to anything.
The first day of junior year happens to be surrounded by mixed opinions. Personally, I am not excited for this year that is supposedly meant to put you through hell by drowning you in school work. Every new school year, I vow to myself that I will change and it never happens. It is an unattainable dream for me to finally open up to people and at least make a couple of friends. I tell myself that it isn't too hard just to be the first one to start a conversation, but who am I kidding?
My thoughts are interrupted when I hear a pounding on the door with an intensity that could only be matched by my father's.
"Liam, you should be up and ready by now" my father firmly states through the door. "I will not let you slack off like you did the last school year and embarrass the family, so get up and get dressed now.!"
I am really not in the mood for my father's reprimanding this early in the morning, specially on a day that I'm not excited for. I'm hoping he gets the message and goes away if I ignore him, but he aggressively enters the room with an irritated scowl.
"I didn't think I would have to talk to you about this because I thought you would eventually learn to grow up. Your mother and I do not have the patience to baby you anymore, so if you don't get up this instance and get ready for school, you will regret it." My father's tone instantly makes my blood run cold and chills crawl up my spine.
I know he is being serious because the one time I disobeyed him was the only time I could truly say I feared for my life. I think instilling some discipline is vital in a child's life, but I don't feel as though I should be afraid of my father. However, I am so scared of what he could do to me.
"Y- Yes, sir, it won't happen again," I respond, my voice so small that I barely even recognize myself.
My father turns around and walks out of the room, but not before slamming the door shut. I slump back down on the bed, not even noticing that my father instantly perfected my posture. With a deep sigh, my fingers shakily make their way up to my hair and anxiously comb through it to try and calm my beating heart.
Alright. Let's do this.
Finally, I roll out of bed and head toward the bathroom after finding clothes that I know my parents would disapprove of but wouldn't care enough to make me change.
After a short shower filled with bizarre thoughts, I don't attempt to do my hair. I then stuff my backpack full of things that I'm probably not even going to need for the first day.
