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Getting There

"Jacob!", his drunk mother called. The boy got up in the mess that he called his bedroom. With bud lite cans and cigars all over the room, Jacob knows his parents have problems. Jacob got ready for school, grabbing his torn coat and his key to get in the house. The boy left, not wanting to ever go back. But where would he go, school? The place where everyone picks on him? The place where he dreads going? No... While the boy walked to the bus sign that had been sprayed painted to say not that nice of words, he began thinking of where he could go. Jacob finally got there and the bus came. The boy walked down the isle of the bus to an empty seat. All the kids kept throwing pieces of paper at him. Jacob picked up one and un crumpled it. It was unused, so he put it in his pocket to use at school. The bus ride was awful. With jeers being told to him and with food getting thrown at him, he just wished they were there.

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-Abbey