My world is constantly whirring out of control, neverending and always moving at an unimaginable speed. I try to grab hold of the frayed edges, but they always seem to slip out of my grasp.
* * *
I woke up groggy and ready to flop back down on the mattress. For some strange reason I hate arriving to school late, because of this, I reluctantly pulled myself out of bed and wearly walked downstairs to make breakfast. As usual, my dad was passed out on the couch,once again, he had worked the crud out of himself. I poured Lucky Charms into my bowl and immediately stuffed my face with colorful marshmallows and odd shaped cheerios.
My legs dangled from the chair and I could feel Hunter, my cat, rub his tail against my foot. I reached down to stroke his fluffy white and black fur, he purred excitedly as I got up and headed for his food dish. He sat down and licked his paw, watching me from the corner of his eye, not allowing me the satisfaction of seeing him stumble and claw for the food that will soon await him in his little bowl. The round pellets noislily clattered into the dish, he seemed to push his dignity aside and scrambled for his food. I chuckled as he shoved his face into the bowl and immediately snarfed down the food. I don't see why cats get excited for stuff like this. They eat the same thing every day and nothing ever new and exciting happens,they're cooped up in a house all day, yet, they seem perfectly content.
I headed back upstairs for my room. A sudden burst of energy surged through my system, I was excited to face the day for no real reason at all. I sighed as I pulled the door to my room open. Clothes littered the floor, unknown species of flies and snakes slithered through my drawers and up my walls. Kidding. My room's a mess but it isn't that bad. I tossed unworthy shirts aside as I clawed at my scattered clothing. I finally settled on a faded red shirt with the words I'm a Pepper scrawled across the front. Now for the jeans. I dodged half eaten sandwiches and plastic cups filled with water as I trekked through the unexplored mountains of Dirty Laundry to the hampers that held my clean clothes. I rummaged through that for a while until I came across my favorite pair of blue jeans. They have the perfect amount of flare, but not too much whereas it makes my butt and hips look abnormally large. I threw them on and hastily made my way to the bathroom. My hair was a mess, bits and pieces of it stuck in this direction, bits and pieces stuck in that direction. So much for One Direction hahaha. That was really bad.
I grappled for the brush that sat on the far edge of the sink and yanked at my unruly hair. Knots snared the brush's teeth, I eyed the scissors that happened to occupy the opposite side of the sink that also held my toothbrush. My toothbrush! That's what I was forgetting! How do you forget to brush your teeth in the morning? My attention switched from my hair to my teeth in an instant. I smeared toothpaste on the bristles and jammed it into my mouth. I forcefully scrubbed my teeth, when I had finished, I took the time to nicely smile into the mirror and examine them. Nice and sparkly and perty.
I sprinted down the stairs and snuck a quick glance at the clock. 7:47!! Holy shit! I live at least a thirty minute walk from school. I snatched my bookbag from the counter and hauled my ass outside. Starting my hopefully 15 minute sprint, no, make that 13 minute sprint, to West Plains High.
* * *
I carefully slid the door to Mrs. Phelps' room open. I tip-toed as quietly as I could toward my desk which happened to be right in front of where she was standing, faceing the board. She was rambling on about the Civil War. I snaked myself around the stray legs that threatened to ensnare me. Finally, I lowered myself into my desk, as soon as I had relaxed the chair let out a loud protest against my weight. Without a moment's hesitation, Mrs. Phelps whipped around to face me.
"Well, it's about time you graced us with your delightful presence, Ms. Normick," she spat as she circled her desk and snatched up a bright pink piece of paper. "Detention, tonight after school," she smirked as she flicked the note onto my desktop. I kept my mouth glued shut as she casually walked back to the center of the board and continued writing her useless notes, if I didn't know any better, I'd say she was just writing the notes and speaking because she liked the sound of her voice and the way her Y's curved whenever she ended a word with that particular letter.
