The sound of a loud alarm awakened me this Monday morning. I groan and pull the sheets over my head as I try and finish my dream. My old dusty light bulb flickers as it tries to shine bright. I finally drag myself out of my warm, fluffy bed and onto the cold hard floor. I slip on my old leathery boots, which have over-time molded to my feet. I slowly walk up my stairs to my kitchen only to hear 3-day old fighting. My eyes are still groggy and I couldn’t make out exactly what my mom and dad were continuing to fight about. I quickly dodge a pan and a spoon as it flies across the room.
“What the hell are you guys fighting about?” I snap.
“Go back to your room, Pesh. Your mother and I are having a small disagreement.” My father says in a very mono-tone voice.
“You call this small? You guys are absolutely ridiculous.” I say.
I march downstairs and hop right into my bed. I instantly, out of habit crank my music up loud. I start getting my clothes on and start getting ready for society’s view on me. I wish I could just look in the mirror and be happy with what I see. Society is so messed up.
I look in my aged mirror and pay close attention to my face. I have whiskey-colored eyes, accompanied by dark hair framing my face perfectly. I instantly spot out every silly flaw. Some tiny scars here and there, from God-knows what, and freckles.
I slip on some worn-out skinnies and a raggedy old flannel I just happened to find on the floor of my closet. I quickly brush my hair and slap on some mascara. I grab my empty backpack and fill it up with my school books, and my Bible. Before I shove my Bible into my bag, I run my intricate fingers over the leather cover, and all the way down to the gold lettering, feeling the pristine object. I carefully place it in the secret pocket of my bag. My parents are strictly atheist, and if I didn’t know any better, if they found out about my beliefs, I would have to spend time isolated downstairs, far from reach of the public.
Without saying goodbye, I make a beeline to my bus stop about a block down my dirt road. The dust cakes the top of my boots and in every crevice my boots have to offer. I kick the same pebble down the road for a few minutes, steadying my pace as I go along. My hands quickly slip into my pockets and my eyes fix upon the ground, as soon as I see some kids from my school in their car on their way obviously. One of them, Naomi, yells something out of the car that I can’t quite depict exactly what she said. I personally don’t enjoy talking to them, only for the fact that I’m so different from them, and they overreact about everything.
I finally get on the bus and sit by my friend, Alex.
“Hey there baby!” he says, in a very seductive tone-obviously kidding.
“Hey, Alex.” I reply in a very dull tone.
“Parents fightin’ again?”
“As always” I say.
He puts his arm around me, for the whole ride to school. He’s my absolute best friend. He practically knows my whole life story! I’m so grateful for him.
When we walk into school he unexpectedly hugs me before I go to my locker. I’ve never felt that close to him. He whispers something in my ear that I wish I could understand.
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