Marigold

3.

Conner hated homework. There wasn't that much homework in middle school, but it was definitely an increase from grade school. It stressed him out, and he didn't get any of pre algebra. Conner thought about asking Albany, but he decided that he'd save that for later. He tried doing a bit of homework earlier today, but he only got stressed and frustrated.

Conner pulled out his skateboard. He hasn't been skateboarding in a while, the dust covering it as proof.

It was under a pile of old boxes that Conner's Dad used to put old books into. He unknowingly stacked it all up on Conner's skateboard, and because of Conner's small size, he struggled to get the boxes off it, since the highest box was towering over his short stature. He had to carry out a kitchen chair out into his garage. That didn't work well. He ended up getting a small cut on his arm from tripping down the stairs into his garage and onto a stupid nail that he remembers throwing earlier when he almost stepped on it.

Conner stares at all the cracks and chipped off edges on the skateboard. It reminds him of all the good (and bad times) he had on the skateboard.

Conner places his skateboard down and sets his right foot on the skateboard. The nostalgic feeling of it brings a smile onto his face.

Conner places his other foot onto the board and stays there, reveling in the feelings of his stress already starting to fade away. Conner's about to push forward with his left foot when his shoelaces get caught up in the wheels, causing him to almost fall over. He jumps off the board before he does though.

Stupid shoes, he thinks.

Conner ties his shoelaces and exhales. He shakily puts both his feet back on the skateboard again and pushes forward without a problem this time.

Conner starts going down his driveway, quickly accelerating. He can feel the rocks and the cracks in the driveway as he goes down.

Skateboarding was something that could make him forget everything happened that day, and it took all the stress off his chest. He couldn't help but smile as the wind blew through his ginger hair.

He used to skateboard everyday.

It helped him. Skateboard calmed him.

He remembers when he first started skating. It was a struggle to get on the skateboard for him, and he got at least one million bruises from all the failed attempts.

Nevertheless, it still calms him.

Conner used to ride his skateboard to Albany's house all the time back when he had enough time to. Her house would usually take about twenty to thirty minutes on skateboard. There's a lot of hills in between. (He used to trip and face-plant on the hills a lot back when he first started.)

It wasn't meant to happen. One second he was smiling, carefree, his heart off of all the worries holding him down. The next second, he was screaming.

He was going too fast. A car that was parked at the side of the neighborhood was something he didn't expect. With only 2 seconds away from hitting the car, he could either swerve into the car, probably make a huge dent and break the glass, or swerve away, possible getting a huge bruise because of the sudden turn.

Conner swerved out the way. He did it so sharply that he went flying off his skateboard.

It all happened so fast. Everything was blurred from how fast he was going through the air. He landed onto the asphalt floor with a thud. A sharp cracking sound traveled to Conner's ears, and it was anything but pleasant.