As sharp as a knife.

The loud beeping from my alarm interupted my deep sleep. I got ready for school, then marched down stairs. Running my hand through my long, shaggy blonde hair, I bumped my elbow on the wall. Wincing a bit, I turned and saw my grandpa looking up at me. Him sitting at the kitchen table. "Son, I think it's time we talk." He said, patting the table to his left, his way of telling me I need to sit down. "If you keep getting into fights, and causing so much trouble. I have no choice, but to send you to boot camp, or something worse. Ok?" He paused as I sat down then continued. "It's really hard on your grandma and me when you come home from school every day with blood on you. After your mom left, and your dad started to beat you guys, I knew it was time to take you in, but y'know... You gotta give us some slack, we're trying very hard to raise you right, and with the war going on and all. We don't need the extra stress. So this is your second warning. Get into one more fight and I'll have no choice but to send you off." I nodded my head, then got up walking to the front door, getting in the car and awaited to be taken to school.