Untitled Story

Introduction

Your eyes open.

Slowly and reluctantly, you uncover your face. You blink, close your eyes, and blink again. Streaks of sunlight penetrate the window and blind you. You sit up, drag your feet off the bed, and rub your knuckles onto your eyes. You stretch your arms above your head and yawn. You watch your legs dangle above the off-white polyester carpet, thinking about your plans for the day. You've prepared a list. A strict routine you follow every single day, besides the weekends: School, Eat, Sleep, Repeat. A very simple way to live life and you like it that way.
You stand up, and embrace the aesthetically pleasuring small room that you call your bedroom. Your vintage floral wallpaper, your unpolished wood writing desk with a MacBook Air atop it, your small twin-sized bed with (yet again) floral print, and lastly your bookshelf, your most prized possession, with books ranging from encyclopedias to manga. You enjoy the sight of your simple, clean room. It's your safe space.
You remember you need to get ready for the school. You press the home button on your phone, which reads 5:10 AM. Still two hours and twenty-five minutes until school begins. You get ready by showering, brushing your teeth, doing your hair, eating a quick breakfast of a banana and some toast, and begin walking to the bus stop. What really was two hours felt like minutes. You remind yourself not to get too eager, as you know this is the fastest part of your day.
Once you arrive to the bus stop, you see the usual kids, talking about how much they hate school, what homework they didn't do, or how tired they are, while you sit on the fence and continue reading your manga until the bus arrives. You try to read but your thoughts distract you. You realize that your mind is so much like the ocean. You watch for the incoming ship, calm on the surface with so many deep under currents, all of them with their own purpose. Being a "watcher" is the perfect job for a daydreamer like you and if you must suffer cold feet and numb fingers through the winter months it's a price worth paying. You realize you are digressing again. Your bad memory and your adhd create this 24/7 déjà vu feeling, and you know you've had to have gone through this process many, many times before.

"Typical me living a typical day" you tell yourself, out loud on accident.
The kids look towards you, then look away, as if they wish not to make eye contact with you.

Just then the bus pulls up and kids file in a messy line to enter. You hop off the fence dramatically and walk over to, and onto the bus.

Then it happens.