Baptized in Dirty Water

Chapter 1

       I laid in my bed, sweating my ass off. Thank god for air conditioning or I would actually combust. And most people around here didn't. I don't think I would survive. I would rather live in the arctic than Mississippi in the summer. I groaned and pulled my hair in to a pony tail so that it was no longer suffocating me. I thank god every day that I don't have to do anything but wake up and watch Netflix during summer vacation. It seems like a good idea to go on a walk or have a picnic or something, but don't let the blue sky and the chirping birds fool you. It's actually an oven outside. I walked down stairs, considering it's about ten degrees warmer in my room. My brother was lounged across the couch in the living room in just a pair of basket ball shorts. Man. I wish I didn't have to wear a shirt. I sat on the other couch and we sat in silence, watching the TV. My brother and I don't talk much. We don't think the same way. Every one of our conversations ends in an argument.  There was a knock at the door and we just stared at each other.

"Answer the door."  I finally said. He looked back at the TV lazily and ignored me. Wow, love you to Casey. I pulled myself up, glaring at him. I walked lazily to the door and opened it. I raised my eyebrows and observed the stranger in front of me. I was expecting the usual ten year old from the elementary school selling cookie dough. This man was anything but. I  glanced down at myself, suddenly feeling self conscious about the short shorts I was wearing. He had long hair that hung past his shoulders. He wore a pair of black skinny jeans, a torn misfits t-shirt, and a leather jacket. A leather jacket in 105 degree weather. Is this boy out of his damn mind? He was so strange. I'd never seen anybody like him around here 

"Can I help you?" I said, trying to focus on anything but his unrealistically blue eyes. He smirked and nodded. 

"Definitely, but in the mean time, can you point me towards the nearest hotel?" I blushed and pulled at my shorts, willing them to magically become longer.  I cleared my throat and leaned against the door jam.

"There's a motel just a few minutes down the street. Can't promise you won't get mugged though." The drastic difference between our voices made it seem like we were speaking different languages. His was surprisingly deep and lacked a southern accent. I don't think i've heard somebody from the north talk, except on the TV or in movies. He laughed and took a drag from the cigarette I hadn't noticed he was holding. 

"I think i'll be alright." He said, his cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. I crossed my arms over my chest and shrugged. 

"Not my fault if you get stabbed."  He raised an eyebrow. Our town is completely safe and nobody has been murdered in the past 80 years. But I mean, he doesn't know that. 

I'm a terrible person 

"Alrighty then." He threw his cigarette down and put it out with his boot. "I'll see you around." He turned around and slammed directly in to my dad. Oh god. I didn't even see him pull up. Somebody save me. 

"Hello.' My dad said cautiously. 

"Howdy." Mystery man said, doing an absolutely horrible southern accent. I cringed and my dad made a face. 

"Why are you on my porch son?" 

"Just needed some directions my kind sir." He kissed my dad on the cheek and walked past him. We both watched as he mounted his motorcycle and sped down the street. 

"Northerners." He mumbled, shaking his head. He walked in to the house and I followed him with a sigh. That man only proves my point that i've been trying to get people to listen to since I could talk. This town is so boring. Everybody knows everybody. Everybody speaks the same way. Everybody dresses the same way. Everybody listen to the same music. It's infuriating. I don't want to grow up to be a teacher, or a cashier, or a damn house wife.  I want to explore the country and meet strange people and do something reckless for once in my life. I am so sick of small town life and I feel like i'm the only one who's being driven insane by seeing the exact same things everyday. That stranger that showed up on my porch was the first new face i've seen in years. I sat on my couch, going back to my daily routine.