learn to love it

I came home from school and walked in throught the unlocked door. The stair way was infront of the front room, so I sat on the bench and pulled off my booties, placing them neatly in the row of shoes. I felt bad for them, my little boots. They got walked all over, kicked around and hugging dirt all day long, only to come back to the dictatorship that was the front room. From the room I went directly to up the stairs and to my bed room. I knew it was a full house, but as usual, there wasn't a sound to be heard anywhere. I pulled my mp3 out of my bag and cranked the volume to its highest, mouthing the words theatricaly as the comforting feeling of nearly bursting ear drums settled in, an angry beat shaking my skull. I lay down in my bed for a while, until before I knew it my mother was calling me down for supper. I begrudgingly made my.slow descent to the dining room. I hate this room. Its so big, and I feel so small in it, not to mention far away from my parents and my brother, sitting across from me, staring across the large table. It's the loneliest of a plethora of loneliness in this big house. 

"So how where your days?" I ask, remarkably uninterested. I was tierd of hearing their chewing fill the silence, it wad kinda gross. 

after a breif moment my mother replied. "It was fine." As all her days seem to be. I made a sound of acknowledgement. I stood to leave. 

"You didnt touch your dinner." my father stated.

"yeah."

Well that was routine. I went back upstair and threw darts at my closet doors. Then I did a hand stand. Then I tried to see how long I could jump. Then I got yelled at for jumping and gave up after two. And now it was time for sleep. I love you sleep. 

Sincerely and from the bottom of my heart, sleep, let's get married.

I woke up on Friday morning to the wretched tune of my alarm. Their a special place in hell for you my friend... I sat up in my bed and had an internal debate as to weather I should get up or not. Common sense won out and I stumbled out of bed in what resembled a drunken stupor. Slowly, I shuffled my way to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, left it on the counter, trugged back upstairs, somehow got dressed, put on my make up, then sat back in bed. I stayed there to just sit for what felt like a second, but was, as it always is, enough to make me miss my bus. 

I'm not what you call a morning person. 

_____________________________________

Once I got to the now mostly vacant bus stop, I met my best friend Franky, who waited for me even after the bus came and went, unlike all our other friends. I snuck up on her on all fours, carefully maneuvering my way directly infront of her ankles without her noticing. I stuck my head between her legs, her still oblivious and lay there, looking all severde. I made sounds of the dead, or at least sounds of those who almost are. She screamed so loud! Then she kept screaming. And kept screaming. And continued to scream some more, now also shaking with laughing. I think I nearly died I was laughing so hard. In fact I was so close to dead that I will now make the strangled laughing sound when I need to be almost dead. I wonder if it will catch on. She looked at me directly.

"You sound like your dead."

Oh, Franky, you are by far, the best.