The Nightblog Girl (2nd Draft)

Here's to Hoping

"Stop shouting at me." Issabelle woke up with her mother a startling 5 inches from her face. She checked her tablet for the time, it was 6:35.

"Mom, we're not even late, we have to leave 7:30 at the earliest."

"Get up! Get up! We have to goooo you're making me late!" Her mother nagged at her.

"I am up, please stop." She said, stretching. She reluctantly uncocooned herself from the cozy bright pink blankets and cringed at the early morning freeze. She knew that later the sun would rouse a complaint from her in the later hours but now all she could think of is her body rejecting itself, involuntarily squirming away from this awkward temperature.

Issabelle smiled when she saw a welcoming glass of chocolate milk on the table as she poured her cereal. She almost yelled for her mother when the spoons weren't in the usual place, but her cry was cut off as she found them near the drying area.

Once she was done, she found herself inquisitive on the annual historic event known as the First Outfit. She decided upon a pretty pink t-shirt that had gold graphics and a pair of her favorite star-strew (mostly jean) jeggings.

She followed through with her morning preparations and was filled with a nervous excitement. It was almost as if her whole body was buzzing, waiting, no- anticipating a hope she secretly knew would be met with disappointment. The hope that everything would be okay, that she would make friends, that her teachers would serve their purpose and not just torture her with a resentment she would never understand. Here's to hoping.

   "Get in the car!" Issabelle jumped in fear of the harsh voice and quickly finished brushing her teeth for the second time that morning (once after waking up, once after eating drinking) and called back that she was coming, only to be met with more verbal assault on her sensitive ears until 5 minutes after being in the car.

She continued the ponderation of hope on the way there, all the possibilities and just one reality to duel with and ultimately be defeated by. She watched the scenery gradually turn grungier and more worn down as they drove deeper into the ghetto.

Eventually, she felt her heart sink as the car stopped in the sketchy prison-like structure that was Monument Junior High.

     "Get out! I have to go to work!" Her body flushed with agitation. Grabbing her boring gray and black hiker/ athletic person backpack, she sucked in an unsteady, deep breath and even though every fiber of her being was denying it, stepped out of the car.

"Love you, goodbye!" She shouted and closed the door. Even though she was annoyed, her mother constantly reminded her that she could die on the highway to her far-away job, so she tried to make sure her parting words with people were nice, you never know who you're going to talk to for the last time.