Dream Catch Me (Student/Teacher)

Dream Catch Me - Chapter One

I awoke to the crisp, winter sunrise streaming through the crack in the curtains, the dark colour of the material making the light stream in much brighter. Peeling the covers back off my single bed, I rose slowly from the mattress with my bones creaking along with the old frame. I reached to the ceiling on my tip toes stretching out the knots in my muscles from yesterday's run. The clock leaning against the plain wall on the floor read 7:10, the usual time I awoke from my slumber.

Like every other morning since the winter season rolled around, I drew back the curtains and opened the window. The birds chirping happily, the dogs occasionally barking, and the people out for their morning jog were oblivious to my observing out the frosted glass windows. Living their lives, moving on. Before the cold could run through my thin pyjama layer, I sprinted back to my bed and dove under the covers, revelling in the remaining warmth by tucking the covers up under my chin. Facing the window, with that same ray of light that woke me now streaming over my face I take a deep breath and smell the winter air. Somehow, the crisp feeling made me think everything was okay, that hopefully things could get better.

A slight gust of wind invaded my room, sweeping across my face and making me shiver. The feathers on the useless dream catcher tied to the head frame of my bed swayed dramatically, finally doing something other than being a useless waste of money. After about 5 minutes the breeze began to pick up more, making my posters rattle against the wall and the tacks to come loose. Sighing heavily I rolled out the side of the bed, "Moving on.." I thought to myself.

Rushing to the window I slammed it shut, small pieces of ice crystals flying off into the wind in the process. Stepping around my bed I opened my bedroom door out to the hall and made my way to the family bathroom. As soon as my foot creaked on the squeaky floorboard, I knew what was coming.

"No! Move out of my way bitch! First born, first person to use the bathroom!" my older brother by 2 years bellowed from down the hall.

As expected, Alex came charging from his teenage boy hellhole shoving me into the wall as he passed and muttered "useless waste of space" under his breath. Sticks and stones Jane, sticks and stones... I reminded myself, these days the phrase is becoming a running mantra in my head. Being 17, I have experienced the taunting of my fellow classmates for several years, but now starting in a whole new town, new city, new state, I was hoping for a somewhat semi-fresh start to the new school term.

After losing a few pounds, I felt like I no longer deserved the name calling. Jelly Jane, Giant Jane, Jumbo Jane. The emotional scars I hope to wear off in the future, but for now the names still felt like sticks and stones. My self implemented excessive exercise regime and special diet meant I was unlike the old Jelly, Jumbo, Giant Jane, and a better looking Jane. With a slight 6 pack I may add..

Feeling my feet start to lose sensation I shuffled back to my room and stuffed my feet into my too small slippers, before returning out to the hall and into the kitchen. I saw my mother sitting at the kitchen bench with a cup of coffee in one hand, a cigarette in the other. Healthy breakfast! When I entered her vision she stopped reading the magazine in front of her and looked me straight in the eye, her black heartless eyes burning into my soul.

"We moved her for you Jane. So the school would stop sniffing around our family for all the bullying you attracted to yourself. So you had better hurry up and get ready for this new school year, because at this rate it may be your last." she said, her eyes never once leaving mine.

I didn't know if that was a reference to the ending of my education, or to the ending of my life. Not wanting to question it in fear of the wrong answer I stayed silent, knowing whatever my reply, she would end up screaming at me. After a good minute or two she sighed heavily, rolled her eyes and muttered the same words as my Brother, "Useless waste of space." Sticks and stones Jane, sticks and stones.