New Kid

Sensation

Beep beep beep. My alarm clock rang. A perturbed sense of trepidation overwhelmed me. The events that unfolded yesterday would surely bleed into today. It was the start of a shift I could not prepare for, yet I was conscious. The soft taps of raindrops resounded through my window. A minor omen that only unsettled me. From how the light concerted, I concluded it was dawn. The delicate rustling of my blanket reflected thunder to my ears. I rubbed my eyes. The subtle rhythm of the alarm clock ceased as my body rolled forward.

A new morning.

The drawer was unhinged and inside the granola bar rested there. It teased me with its wrinkled wrapping, which resembled a face. My stomach rumbled, pleading for breakfast as I sighed before unfolding my blanket. A prickling pain ensued in my legs. Each step I took was purposeful and calculated. My legs hadn't woken up yet.

My mother, who was watching television, heard my shuffling and peered down the hallway. There I was, struggling to walk through the plank floorboards. She gazed at me with an unconcerned expression. I grinned and chuckled before reaching the dining table. Already, she had fixed breakfast for me. I thanked my mother before digging in. The flavor of flawlessly seasoned scrambled eggs pursued a sensation of satisfaction. Although the eggs were cold, the taste compensated for it. Through the blinds, gleaming speckled stars encapsulated the landscape.

I stood up and walked over to the refrigerator. Inside, I grabbed a carton of iced coffee and poured it into a glass. After returning the carton and closing the fridge, I sipped the beverage, savoring it. In the background, my mother was preparing to leave for work. She let out a goodbye before closing the door. There was silence before the dabbing of the rain continued. My fingers tingled, a sign of the caffeine. Soon, the glass of coffee would be empty, and I strolled to the kitchen, placing the plate and the glass into the sink.

Before heading to my room, I rubbed my leg and yawned. My closet was barren. Just a dozen pieces of apparel dangled from the pole. Scanning the wardrobe, a clothe caught my eye. It was a martial arts set that I no longer used. I scrunched my face in deep thought before continuing down the line. A dark blue t-shirt, jeans, and a grey hoodie looked fine in the mirror. Before leaving the room, I grabbed a pair of socks and slipped on my rucksack. After, I rummaged through the shoe rack for a matching set of shoes. The shoes echoed in the empty apartment hallway. Pulling the key out of the door and sliding it into my pocket, a thought crossed my mind. Alison wanted me to meet the new kid formally. I knew she was anticipating me at school, scheming something.

Last night, Alison and my mother sang karaoke while I perched like a grump. In absolutely no circumstance would I ever have sung with them—unless, of course, my favorite song emerged on the tracklist.

I shuddered. The glass doors sensed my presence and slid open. I hopped down the steps and found my way through the parking lot before reaching the bus stop. My seat was empty, as always. The sky was the same familiar dark purple with a tint of orange. The wind, a pinch warmer than yesterday, filled me with a feeling of calmness. Another bad morning: rescued by nature. The rain plopped and splashed on my head while I sat there. It was only drizzling, so I didn't need an umbrella. Fluid sounds of the raindrops rattled in my ears. Cars whizzed by, squealing as if to imply it stormed in the twilight. Noticing the wet roads and the damp bench, I knew that the drizzle would die off.

Hum, hum.

The bus had arrived as sparkling ice formations covered the windows. I climbed in, greeting the bus driver for once. As I reached my regular seat, the bus jerked forth, and I lost my balance. After a moment, the bus began to move at a slow pace. I reclined with my rucksack beside me as subtle bouncing from the road caused the bus to judder. Gazing outside the window, the pattern of the road consumed me. My face rested on my fist as I started daydreaming.