Lost in Thought (First Draft)

Chapter 2 Home

The principal escorted me down to his office, and immediately began yelling at me while I slumped down in a chair.
"Your behavior was absolutely unacceptable! Why on earth did you attack Vanessa!?" He yelled.
"I didn't! It was self-defense! She attacked me first!" I said, pleading my case.
"We know that's not true. We have numerous witnesses saying that Vanessa got struck first. You're only making it worse for yourself by lying to administrators! I shall be contacting your parents soon!" He retorted angrily.
I stood up from my chair and glared at him as tears began rolling down my face.
"You know I don't act like this! I've never been down to the office before for anything negative! You know I don't just attack people for no reason! I'm not that kind of person, and you know that!" I said angrily.
"Sit down! I'm done with this discussion. I'm calling your parents." He muttered as he picked up the phone.
He glanced at his laptop for my dad's cell phone information, and then began to dial.

I couldn't believe it. He was just blatantly ignoring my argument. He wasn't giving me a chance to explain this nonsense. Everything I said to him, he just completely disregarded. Quite frankly, it was pissing me off. However, I was containing myself. I would most likely go to jail for assaulting a school administrator. I couldn't have that, despite the urge and will to do so.

The principal ordered me to go grab my things, and said that I would be suspended from school grounds for the next three weeks. I went to my locker, which wasn't incredibly far from the main office, and acquired my backpack, and winter coat. (It was quite cold out, especially since we lived in Helena, Montana.)

I walked back down the hallway, past the office, and to the front entrance of the school, just in time to watch my dad's pickup truck pull up. I went outside, and began to walk towards his vehicle. It was flurrying slightly, and I presumed that it would turn into a major snowstorm later on in the evening... It was only noon as of now. School was probably going to be canceled for tomorrow.

I reached the vehicle, and opened the door to be blasted by the smell of liquor.

Oh god... He's been drinking again.

"I'm not getting in their with you," I said to my father angrily."You'll get me killed."
"Save your b-bitching for later... Your prin... Principal called me sayin' that you done got... Y-Yourself in a fight..." He said rudely. "N-Now get in the goddamn c-car..." He had slurred many of his words.
I reluctantly obeyed, and entered the vehicle. I threw my backpack in the back, shut the door, and buckled up. I felt like I was going to die for getting in the car with a drunk man, but I didn't really have much of a choice... I didn't have anywhere else to go besides my pathetic excuse for a home. I would die out on the streets most likely...
I sometimes wondered if that was the better option.

He managed to drive us back to our dilapidated, ranch-style house without swerving all too much. It was no more than eight hundred and fifty square feet. The siding was rotten, and falling off, and the roof was in need of total replacement. Our yard was filled with scrap metal, and other garbage. All plant-life was practically dead on our property, apart from the few weeds sprouting out of the ground here and there.

He pulled into our cracked driveway, and got out. That was thankfully the end of the drive. I had been clutching the door for dear life the entire time, for I was afraid of getting into an accident. The entire time, he scolded me on how he was pulled from his important "work" to come and get me. In actuality, he didn't have a job. He was completely able to get one, but he was simply too lazy and undisciplined. His important "work" was merely just him watching the television and lounging around, and occasionally, binge drinking. In order to make a living, we fed off of government programs for a weekly check, and food stamps, but it really wasn't much of a living... He didn't do anything.

I got out of the truck, walked up to the front door, and went inside. My father was in the living room, now continuing to drink even more. He seemingly didn't want to acknowledge my existence at this point, so I cut through the living room, went to the hallway, and finally to my bedroom. I shut the door behind me, and glanced around. I had a love/hate relationship with my bedroom. On one hand, it was one of the few places I could escape to for some relative peace, but on the other, it was utterly disgusting in here. It wasn't that I left it a mess; I kept it quite organized, but it was that the house hadn't been updated in so long. The carpet was stained, and the walls were wood paneling. I wouldn't be surprised to learn if asbestos was behind those panels... There were probably hundreds of things in this house that weren't up to code.

I dropped my backpack beside my bed, and went over to my dresser. I opened up the top drawer, and pulled out my cellphone, along with some headphones. I put the headphones on, plugged the smaller end into my phone, and then pressed shuffle. I began listening to numerous depressing songs by bands like Evanescence, and Sleeping With Sirens. Their music relaxed me, yet saddened me at the same time. It was a weird sensation, but I believed that it helped me cope with real world stress...
It allowed me to think clearly, without worry of interruption, and I was grateful for that...

I lied down atop my bed, and slowly drifted into a deep slumber...