" Wake up! Wake up! Rachel, wake up, you're going to be late for school! " I hear my mom yelling for me.
The buzzing noise from my alarm already makes me frustrated today. I hop out of my bed, regretting it, as soon as the cold air hits me. I walk over to my closet getting my outfit for today, jogging pants and a sweater, I wanted to feel comfortable. I grab my bag and walk out the door yelling bye to my mom before I walk out.
I push the buzzer so the secretary will open the doors. I'm late, for the third day in a row. I could care less, but I can tell the secretary are getting annoyed. I hear a " Hello? " I reply with " Rachel Malcolm " The response comes fast with a very frustrated tone " Come in "
I walk up the stairs to the 9th grade hallway. I only hear the click of my shoes hitting the linoleum floor. It's silent, but not for long. I spin the dial on my locker just as the bell rings. Everyone comes rushing out into the halls, pushing past me, shoving things into their locker.
My next period is English. I walk down the hall keeping my head down as I go. I hate being late to school.
I entered the room, students piling in. I sat in the back. The teacher went up to the board and gave us our assignment, write an essay about heroes in everyday life. I picked up my pen and started writing.
That's when the pain started. It felt like a million needles being poked into my side. I started drifting away, my eyes like the weight of anvils.
