Perfectly Broken

"Today will be a good day"

I woke to the sound of my alarm on a pile of messy bedsheets, crumbs, and old pillows. I couldn't remember where I was for the first few seconds of my morning, but it seemed to come back to me like a floodgate of emotions and memories. Alcohol, loneliness, cookies, and then sleep.

Just a typical Sunday night.

I stretched and swung my legs onto the soft, cold carpet that welcomed my awakening. "Good morning!" It seemed to say to me as the crisp wool was crushed under my small weight, to only pop back up after my next few steps to the bathroom. I looked into the dirty mirror, the filth and grime blocking my reflection.

That's no good. I grabbed a towel and wiped the mirror, leaving a trail of shine in the place of the muck.
I saw a girl staring at me. A girl who despite her situation of loneliness and abuse, had always believed in something bigger. Instead of seeing a reject like most others would, I saw promise. I placed a hand on my face and felt my skin, a living canvass of experience. Scars from 18 years of life dotted my face, along with freckles and a few pimples here and there.

I smiled, "Today will be a good day."

I quickly looked into my small closet for a pair of jeans, and managed to fish out a green button up shirt. Stubbing my toe on the bedpost, I walked into the kitchen and scraped a few things into my school pack. After throwing on a jacket I was prepared for school. I grabbed my red bag and headed for the bus stop.

The air was crisp and could sent shivers down my spine as I bundled my thin jacket together to cover myself up as much as possible. The grass sparkled under a coat of frost that seemed to accent the cool November air that was slowing making its way across the Northern Hemisphere.

Today will be a good day. I thought to myself, I'm worried, and cold, and the bus isn't here, but today I need to try. That was my way of making sure I could handle things. I tend to give myself advice, even though I seldom follow it. You know what you have to do today right? Today you have to take a math test, be friendly, and drink lots of water. Trying not to freeze would be helpful as well.

Finally, as of on que the orange school bus made its way lazily down the road, it's bright colour contrasting that of the still sleeping world. It was 8:30 when it arrived at the stop.

I climbed into the bus and gave my usual, "good morning" to the driver. He was an older man, and was hard of hearing, but he always managed to tell me, "good morning" in return. It was a ritual that both parties were eager to commit, almost Pavlovian in nature. I enter, we chant a "good morning" and then I find my seat. This good morning however, I saw that my seat was taken by a figure I could not make out in the dim light.

I hesitated, but after a slight pause I heard myself thinking, sit there, it's not as if you can't share a seat, so I gave in and moved over to my seat, and sat.

He was a huge man. Around 6'2" with brown hair and full lips. His eyes were dark, yet his face held a neutral expression. He looked not like his face was resting, but rather as if he were devoid of any emotion at all. Staring ahead he made no notice of me being there.

I pulled on his sleeve with my nervous hand, parallel to a china doll interacting with a bull. "H-hello?" I started, unsure of what to greet him with, "I've never seen you on this bus before, are you new at the school?"

His eyes flashed down at me, and for a second I was worried as thoughts of how I might die raced through my mind. He seemed calm, but deadly. Like the hidden poison in a cup of tea served to a government official, or the cancer cells that multiply and grow within a sick man. The emotion seemed to flood into his face unnaturally as he spoke in a low, monotonous voice, "Yes, I am new to this school, who are you?"

"Milo." I managed to squeak out.