Uncle went into the cockpit to bother the pilot. He says we’re only going to be in the air a couple hours more.
So let’s flash forward. Basically I wouldn’t talk to my Uncle or my Dad after all that – I talked to my mother, who was now bald and in agonizing pain, only once, and that too to tell her I hate her for hiding this from me – and there was no one at home to help me with my studies anymore. I won’t do it myself willingly, not after what they'd done.
As a repercussion, I had to resume school. Like, go to an actual school.
And since there are like two schools here in {Undisclosed}, and one of them is a breeder of criminals, I’ll have to go back to my old one. The one with Jason and the jocks.
The one where I’m called “Buttwipe.”
I confronted my Dad, I was like, I don’t wanna go, I will not go, do what you will.
Mum's condition has had a toll on Dad, for he didn’t even properly retort. He simply said: 'You are going.’
And that was it.
I was going.
Bye-bye, home-schooling. Miss you from the root of my heart. Wiping my tears.
YOU ARE READING
Sort of Dead
Humor**This book features short, fun, snappy chapters** **Perfectly fine as a standalone** [Caution: may pack a couple of gutpunches.] "First things first: this is the story of how I die. Over and over again." __________________________________ Marra is...
