-Welcome to Reality-

Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Mornings

Beep...Beep...Beep...Beep...Beep...

I reach my arm from out of the covers and wack the snooze button a couple of times before it finally turns off.  Man I hate alarm clocks.  They disguise themselves as this seemingly Innocent tool that "helps" me wake up so that I can get to school or whatever on time.  Uh no.  Alarm clocks are evil contraptions that violently jolt me from my peaceful slumber and into this corrupt reality, only to remind them that I have to go sit in school for eight hours listening to teachers like Mr. Brawford who should really be on some sort of medication for his gas condition.  On top of that, a man some where is actually making a considerable amount of profit off of this stupid, kill-joy device.  With each minute of sleep I loose, his bank account goes cha-ching.  And he doesn't even have to wake up early to be rich.  The least he could do is send me a thank you card, or even an email.  Wow i sure am long-winded this morning.

I lay here for a few more minutes before I barely open my eyes, just enough to catch a glimpse of the time--6:39.  Crap.  Have i really been laying here for that long?  I got to be at school in twenty minutes. While rolling out of bed I make this long moaning noise that sounds somewhere between a dog whining and my basement door creaking shut.  Before making my way to the bathroom I unplug my clock and throw it in my hamper.  Mom will figure out what to do with that. From now on I'll be waking up on my own thank you very much.

After throwing on some black jeans, vans, and grey shirt that says something on the front (honestly I don't know what), I eat a really quick breakfast, and grab my books.  As I head out I glance in the mirror by the door.  Looking back at me is a 17  teen year old boy with dark hair and green eyes.  I smile.  Man, I even manage to look this good in a hurry.  I guess I just got lucky.  

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I arrive at school at 6:58.  I scan the lot for a place to park.  My eyes finally land on a empty parking space.  Front row.  Perfect.  Well its about time something goes my way this morning.  I hit the gas as I speed towards it.  Out of nowhere, my books go flying off the dash and my head bangs hard against the roof of my truck.  "AH! What the?!"  I whip my head back only to see a speed bump laying in the road.  I hate speed bumps.  I mean come on, who the heck thought them up?  Speed bumps do not cause people to drive according to the speed limit.  These days, people drive however fast they want, not giving a flying fart in space what the little sign on the side of the road says.  Instead of simply letting us stubborn drivers proceed straight ahead at our chosen speed, the city places these lumps along the way to  "prevent" us from doing so.   When i say "prevent", I am referring to the part when everything in the car is thrown into the air and scattered onto the floor.  And if you're really unlucky, like myself, you'll probably have a bump on the side of your head the size of a golf ball.  Now tell me how in hell you're supposed to keep you eyes on the road during all this chaos.  So i have concluded that speed bumps are merely a distraction rather the controlling of speed.  Have i mentioned I hate them?  Cause I do.

By the time I turned my head forward to resume parking, another car pulls into MY space.  "Whaaaaaaat!?" I squeal.  There is no way they are taking my spot.  I pull up behind the car and roll down my window, ready and determined to give this punk a piece of my mind.  Right as I open my mouth to say whatever it was I was going to say, Mrs. Molaski steps our of the car giving me this evil little smile as if she has no idea she just cut me off.  Mrs. Molaski is the bitter 86 years old school librarian.  The only reason she is still employed is because she volunteers.  Honestly I have no idea how she gets the books on the top shelf, shes 5'2 when she stands up straight, which she never does because her back is hunched.  She kind of reminds me of a female version of Quasimodo on The Hunched Back of Notre Dame.  I can deal with her sour attitude but its her shushing that I just can't handle.  The worst noise in the world to me is when some one says "shhh" but its a thousand times more irritating when she says it, especially when it is followed by her evil eye.  I hate that noise.  With great self-control, I resort to a half smile while saying "Good morning" then driving off before I would be tempted to run over her.    

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This chapter is kind of short but I want you to get the just of the character before I continue with my story.  I'll be trying to post at least one chapter every day.  Hope you'll like it.  --Landon