"It's day 10, Isla. I wish you would wake up. I've lost everything and you're the only person who understands."
Bradley Monse used to have everything. He was the star basketball player. He dated the most popular girl. He had good grades and friends...
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Changing is much harder with crutches. I mean much harder. I struggle to pull on a t-shirt, before my body falls onto the bed. Fortunately, I get my arm through the hole just in time. I dabble on some cologne and pull on some over-sized jeans. I walk over to the mirror.
My grey eyes are hollow and tired. My brown hair looks lanky and overgrown like a weed. My t-shirt hangs off my skinny body and my jeans look like they're from my father's wardrobe.
I look like my father and that's not what I'm aiming for for my first day back at high school.
But, I'm laying on my bed, panting with exhaustion from putting a new t-shirt. I'm not doing it again. No way.
I shout down the stairs to Mum, for help to climb down. She appears at the door of my room, looking as dejected as me.
"I'm not going to school today." I say firmly.
"Yes. You are." Mum replies equally as firmly. Guess that's where those genes came from.
She helps me off my bed and put her arm around my shoulder to help me get down the stairs.
After 5 minutes of panting and struggling, we reach the bottom. Mum helps me sit down on a chair in the dining room.
"Which cereal d'ya want?" She ask.
"Cheerios." I call to the kitchen.
"Bradley you've got Support Group after school today."
I groan.
"Do I have to go?" I yell.
"Dr Chris prescribed it." Mum returns with my bowl of Cheerios.
"Dr Chris is a moron who likes talking about feelings." I eat a mouth-full of the cereal.
"You're going to Support Group, Bradley." Mum is stubborn as hell, just like me.
I sigh. Can this day get any worse?
"Time for school." Mum says, throwing up her car keys and catching them.
Yeah, it just got worse.
●●●
Jamestown High has a social pyramid, reflective of the layout of our cafeteria.
At the bottom, by the bins, are the misfits. These are the lonely creeps, who prefer to sit alone. I know it's harsh, but no-one dares question the pyramid.
On the first row, are the wannabes. They mimic the behaviour of the popular people, which we can't stand. They sit near the serving area.
A step up are the geeks. We respect them, but they're not popular. In this row, is student council and most extra-curricular clubs.
