First thing I did that morning, fall out of bed, my knees felt weak. I got up and disregarded the fall, it didn't matter after all.
I shivered, just noticing that my clothing was soaking wet. I touched my blanket, it was just as wet, dripping wet. I brought the front of my shirt to my nose and sniffed it, trying to place what could've done this.
Whatever had drenched my bed didn't have a smell or it had a very weak smell. I put it off as sweat, which made the most sense.
I pulled of my clothes, slapping myself for being stupid. Most people get the clothing, then take off what they were wearing. Oh well, I went through my drawers and pulled out a simple, dark green t-shirt, a pair of plaid black, grey and white boxers then some boring jeans.
Mentally slapping myself, I pulled on a random pair of sweatpants and ran to the bathroom, taking a towel.
Then ran back to my room, pulling off the pants and drying myself off.
I was finally able to get dressed.
Before going to leaving I put on a simple grey sweatshirt, took my backpack and left.~~~~☆~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~
Mike wasn't there waiting for me that morning, he was most likely just late.
I walked over to were he was usually waiting and dropped my backpack by the flag pole and sat on the protruding edge of the stone planter box that was filled with the same flower everyone used for decoration and a small rosemary plant.
I sat there for six minutes, got up and began to pace, then sat back down.
I looked at my wrist watch, 7:23. Almost time for school to start already, twenty minutes had passed pretty fast. I decided to walk to first period, hoping to see him there.~~~~☆~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~
Classes had started, I threw my backpack under my desk, and sat down, hitting my elbow of the stupid metal thing for pens and stuff on the white board to my right.
I turned, ignoring my pain, Mike was no where to be seen that whole day.
He wasn't in any classes but none of the teachers said anything so I didn't worry.~~~~☆~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~
When I got home I did the same things, homework, shower, then bed, nothing new that day. Only Mike not showing up.
YOU ARE READING
Broken
Teen FictionHe's an outcast, the cliché target for bullies, and a broken family to help. He started off with enough problems, they said it would get better. It didn't and hasn't He learns that it's just going to be a painful roller-coaster, with little pleasure...