Incomplete

Incomplete chapter 5

Incomplete: Five.

     "Wake up, honey!" My mom yelled from the bottom of the stairs. I groaned as my alarm clock went off, and i turned over.

     "Just a few more minutes..." I grumbled, hiding under my covers.

     "It's Monday!" She yelled. I groaned louder, but this time obeyed.

     I changed quickly into my usual casual attire. I wore a black Disciple T-Shirt with light blue jeans torn at the knees. I had dark purple Converse that stopped just below my ankles, and i smiled at my string anklet with red, orange, and yellow beeds strung onto it.

     I tucked my bronze necklace under my shirt and patted it for good luck, and then i ran down the stairs to the smell of toast.

     "Whoa, what's the occassion?" I asked joyfully stepping into the kitchen.

     My mom smiled at me wearily, bags under her eyes. "I just felt like it, i guess...i kind of miss making breakfast."

     "How early did you have to wake up?" I cautiously sat down, eyeing her.

     "Oh hush," she stuck her tongue out at me. "No earlier than 6 o'clock this morning."

     I picked up my toast and buttered it swiftly. "Oh, well that's not so bad, i guess." I took a bite and savoured the flavor as the butter melted on my tongue.

     "See? I can be reasonable." She gave me that weary smile again.

     I looked around the kitchen before asking, "So where's dad, then?"

     She stopped smiling instantly. It was quiet, and i knew what that meant. Dad probably got drunk late last night. He was probably hung over, lying in bed and complaining about his headaches and stomachaches.

     "Did you finish your homework?" She asked me suddenly.

     "Uhh, yeah." My heart dropped. It always came back to some kind of work. "I had that English essay that i'm about halfway done, but that's not due until tomorrow, so i'll finish that up tonight, i guess." I shrugged, and she looked at me expectantly. "I also had some pre-calc, yeah," I continued, and she looked more satisfied.

     "Was that okay? You understand everything?" She asked.

     "Well yeah, basically. It's not too tough."

     "...What about that music class of yours?"

     My head snapped up and i stared at her. She normally didn't like talking about that class. It was almost like a free-period where you could listen to/play music the whole class period. The only grades we had to worry about were playing tests and the occassional performance, and there was tons of extra credit involved in the ciriculum. Basically an easy A. It was just like a music club, except our school didn't have one of those. We didn't have a band, either. The only performance group our school could afford to fund was the drama department and their two seasonal productions - a musical in the fall, and a play in the spring.

     "Uhh, i just had to listen to this Beethoven piece played by Glenn Gould over the weekend. I, uhh, downloaded it to my iPod...fell asleep listening to it on replay. It's really amazing with dynamics and stuff, soo..." I trailed off, not really knowing what to say next.

     My mom looked at me like i had two heads. "Who's Glenn Gould?" She asked.

     "He was this Canadian piano player; really amazing at classical music...he was from the 20th century. Died in...what was it? 1982, i think." I watched carefully for her reaction. She didn't really have much of one; just went back to eating her own toast across from me at the table.