24 Hours

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

                I could’ve sworn, that was the longest ride of my life. The trees raced by me like slurs of green and brown oil pastel, carelessly blended together in a puddle of mushy, smelly liquid. The road slithered by, a snake with its fangs bared and gleaming, poison dripping onto its tongue, soon to be seeping into its next victim’s skin. Their blood.

                Even the loud screams of juveniles in middle school – which surrounded me from all sides – were merely muffled voices. Meaningless jabber. Meaningless voices. Completely, utterly meaningless.

                Unable to contain my boredom, I unfolded the piece of paper I’d so quickly snatched off the top of my nightstand only minutes earlier. I looked at the first word written in big, girly letters;

                Confess

                The words glared up at me. They burned shadows in my eyes and sewed threads in my heart that did not merge together a wound, but only make it bigger. It was as if someone had gone up to me and stabbed me in the chest a thousand knives with a dagger.

                Absurd, I thought. You must be crazy. Insane. How do you intend to pull this off?

                Pull it off? Never mind that. It was a not a stunt. It was not an idea. It was a plan, one my mind has been set on for years. One my life had been set on – awaiting – since the day I was born and ‘till the day I die.

                Which, of course, I knew only too well.

                The first step of my plan was simple; confess. That was it. I was to confess my sins and my feelings to those around me. I would speak my mind, and nothing else. My intentions were crystal-clear; compliment and complain.

                At this, I smiled. Suddenly, the day didn’t seem so dull. I was no longer dreading the outcome of this. I was no longer bored. I was thoughtful, enveloped in a mist so dense, so deep, that it was opaque. No one could see but me. I was not blinded anymore by my mistakes. I would take what I got, and give what was deserved.

                But where to begin? Homeroom was my first period of the day, and science followed just afterwards. I had classes with each of my friends, except for Molly and Augusta.

                Carefully, I looked around and observed the chaotic scenery. Laura Napolean was yanking the hair of a poor little sixth grader, whose glasses fell to the floor of the bus and slid backwards, hitting the emergency exit at the back. Molly and Augusta, fortunately, were sitting one seat behind me, giggling over some instant message a boy had sent one of them.

                At the next stop, I stood up and sat across from them. Molly looked up and smiled. Loudly – to be heard over the racket – I asked, “could I sit next to you guys?”

                Augusta grimaced, and Molly turned her head to glance at Augusta. Seeing her disapproval, Molly frowned. “No,” she said. Molly knew that I’d seen quite clearly why. To my surprise, she picked up her backpack and scooted over a seat.

                The shocked look on Augusta’s face was enough to last me a lifetime.

                “Hey Juniper,” Molly said. She gave me a big grin as she said, “Augusta seems a bit grumpy today.” I laughed. Then I began the real business.

                “Molly,” I sighed. There was so much to say to this girl. “You don’t think you’re very pretty, do you?”

                The brunette beside me blushed and looked down at the floor of the bus. The answer was an obvious yes, but I’d known that even before I’d asked her. The way she hunched over when she sat indicated low hope for her flat chest, and her shy, withdrawn stride meant she had little confidence in her appearance. Even the small arch of spine was enough to show it.