Different.

The Ruckus.

Chapter 3.

A spot of light shone across my face as I was awoken by it's disturbance. A seam from the windows blind had been loosened. I rub my eyes fiercely, as I get out of bed. Walking over to the speck of sunlight washing over the shadows of the bedroom, I try putting the little thread back through the slit it had been winded in.

"Ugh! Why won't this go through!?"  I shrug, anxiously. I really need some modern blinds, these things look like they're from the 80's. Unbelievably, I'm somehow still living under my parents decisions.

My family had gotten home, just an hour after I'd fallen asleep late, last night. I nearly forgot to keep the silence. Though, I had already been walking on the cold surface of the floor. I was aware that someone would hear even the tiniest squeak of a door handle being turned. I sneakily move towards my counter top. The place where I keep most of my belongings. A digital clock sits in the center, with the time.

The font of the time shown, so unexpectedly small. I stretch further over, to snatch the digital clock. My posture so slouched, so that I could try to nearly make as much noise. But-I couldn't keep that position for much longer. I had suddenly lost my balance, when my finger slips instantly, pressing the "alarm" button.

The alarm buzzes consecutively, as I stand in one spot and release the digital clock from my hand with shock. It falls extremely hard on the ground, as pieces shatter among the hardwood floor. I stare into the crevice of my bedroom door, where the hallway peaks in. But-nobody has woken up just yet. I also couldn't find Bear, who surely toned in on all there was to have happened.

Nobody had heard anything after the alarm sounded so abruptly. It being broken, had everything  silent once again. It's as if I'd just left a loud party, my ears remain numb with enduring time.

I take a step further, to where my closet full of clothes, stands. I grab a pair of dark pigmented blue jeans, and a long sleeved shirt. Though most high schools have uniforms, there is a "No Uniform Policy", as stated to all students that attend classes there.

My closet door vastly swooshes forward, just as though a physical object came into contact with it. Bear unexpectedly runs out of the closet door, pounces on top of a couple of my already-read books, and onto the  bed. 

"AH! You startled the living heebie jeebies out of me Bear!" I crossed my arms, and stare at him with grief. "Wouldn't you have gotten out of there by now? The storm is over, silly!" I walk over to the window, opening the blind to see some sunlight. Everything had been dark yesterday, and now the sky is oddly—gracefully—glistening.

 Bear starts rolling on my bed, wagging his tail rapidly with joy. My bedroom door suddenly opens with a rush, as I stare in astonishment with my mom standing on the other side. "Excuse me, why is Bear on your bed? You know he isn't allowed up there!" she argues. I suppose all that mattered to her was the annoyance of "Fur on the bed", though Bear wasn't a dog that'd shed. She didn't bother worrying about the Ruckus that happened just a couple of minutes ago.

"I heard you talking to yourself, again. What's the problem with you?!" She questions me simultaneously. "Mom, I was talking to Bear, okay..?" She eyes me arguably, withal believing that my mouth, is a mouth of unbearing lies. 

I try to explain the disturbance as it begins to rest forgotten, when my brother opens the door wider.  His exhausted eyes closed, as he raises one of his eyebrows in curiosity. "Was that you making all of that noise while I was asleep..?" With my foot, I had already—carefully pushed the shattered alarm clock pieces under my bed. Dad didn't care to ask about anything, he just hurried downstairs to chow down on some of his "everyday-morning" cereal.

For breakfast, my family and I often discuss about how our day will go. Practically, talking about jobs, and other typical parenting matters. My brother is quite frankly to complain about such things when a meal begins. Meanwhile, my mom and dad ignore stuff they find bothersome to them. The only trouble I have with life, is speaking to people who like me one day, then hate me the other.  Either way, I'm not the type of person to create their own "cliche" group of friends, and make a name to address us specifically.

I sit down at the table for breakfast. Dad's eating his boring old "honey nut cheerios" cereal, same with my brother, and mom-who has sliced up bananas inside. I stare at them in disgust. "Ugh. Why do you all like that stuff? There's no enjoyment in a bowl of dried grossness." I complain. "It's cereal. In cereal, you're supposed to add milk. That's why you find it dry, if you don't." Mom explained.

"Yes mom, I think I know that." I shrug. "Can I eat something else? I hate cereal."Before Mom could say anything, dad cuts in. "Sure, go right ahead." I smile, and walk away to the kitchen, as Bear follows me notably.

While getting ready for high school, I pack my backpack, and toss it on the ground. Running upstairs, I quickly brush my teeth, when a voice yells out -"Elise!" It was my brother. Probably here to annoy me, as he does on a daily basis. I spit out the toothpaste, rinse my toothbrush, and put it back in it's cup holder. A blue blob of nasty is stuck on the ceramic, left in the sink. "So, are you happy for your first day of high school?" Matthew asks. "Why would I be happy about school? It's always the same old boring expectation, when you imagine yourself in a fantasy—at first." I explain, feeling lifeless. "Well, you'll like it better in college or University— maybe..?" he asked questionably. "Totally, I can't wait", I scramble, being sarcastic.

I constantly check my wrist watch that Dad bought me in fifth grade, supposing that I'll be late for school. I was purposely given this watch because my parents assume I'm "too slow" when getting ready in the morning. Mom keeps yelling at me from downstairs, to pick up the pace. Yes-I'm sometimes slow, but when taking my time, I can do things easier. I wonder what the feeling of not having someone judge you by your pace—is.

"Elise, you better hurry up! The bus is coming soon, and you're going to miss it!" she shouts. I shrug my shoulders, and run to my room hastily. I shove the huge book from under my pillow, into my backpack, as i make my way down the stairs. "Elise, can you grab my cell phone? I think I left it on the counter." She asks. "And uh, can you grab my coffee? It's on the sink. Sorry sweetie, I just need some of that caffeine, and coffee beans to wake me up!" Dad inquires. 

"Yeah-no problem." I reply, feeling late than ever. 

Sensing a rushed feel—I quickly look at them ready to go, prepared, and I'm the only one that isn't. I hurriedly grab whatever they needed, gave it to them, and arranged myself. Not neatly, but as subtle as possible.  I grab my school bag, and head out the door. Mom and dad jump in the car to go to work, along with Daniel who attends college. Since I'm in high school now, my parents find it much easier that they don't have to drive me in. It's mostly because; they would loose track of time, I'd be an annoyance to them, or they'd probably loose their job because of my sluggish, and slow ways. Yep, so they assigned me a bus seating.

As their cars ride down the drive way, they each say goodbye. "Make sure to walk to your bus stop in time, and check your watch once in a while. Sprint if you can't walk fast enough, okay?" Mom shouts. "Don't kiss any boys!" Dad adds, laughing hysterically. I sigh, greatly bothered. "I don't have time for them, and they won't have any time for me—get the point? I'm not a tramp."

"See you Later!" I bawl.

The car leaves, as I'm stuck—all by myself.