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I walked to school in the warm rain. It was one of those days where the sky was gray, and gloomy but the sun still managed to reflect in the scattered puddles of water. “I’m gonna be soaked by the time I get to school,” I thought as my feet splashed nosily in the puddles. This morning I woke up late and in my morning rush I forgot to grab my hoodie on the way out the door. I checked my ink black watch 8:05.
That’s fine I guess I’ve had worse. I once got to school at 3:00. That sucked. I ended up with a suspension for missing so many classes. They thought I was skipping school but changed my mind at the last minute. That didn’t bug me though an extra day away from school. Just what I need to slash your tires. That’s perfectly fine with me.
I saw a flicker of green out of the corner of my eye. No way. Not today of all days. I instantly broke into a run as I figured out who it was. Daniel tore after me tearing up bits of grass as he went. His green and black hair was flying around him. “JAMIE!!!!! GET OVER HERE!!! OR SHOULD I GIVE YOU AN EXTRA HARD BEATING TODAY,” He exclaimed as he grabbed at the air behind me.
Daniel was 19. Believe it or not he used to be a good kid. Got straight A’s, played sports after school. No one’s really sure what happened to make him the way he is now but something did. The most popular story is that one night after he went to bed his parents got into a fight. I mean a really big fight. His Dad won pulled the trigger on his Mom. After that his Dad crept up to his room and woke him up, took him downstairs and showed him what he did. Daniel was horrified but more scared of his Dad than anything. His Dad told him he had to help bury her. So they grabbed a couple of shovels threw them in the trunk with his Mom and drove off somewhere. His Dad forced Daniel to do most of the work. Daniel was ok with that because it gave him time to think. He decided that after they threw his Mom in the hole he would beat his Dad with the shovel. It worked. He beat him till you couldn’t recognize him any more. Then he shoved his Dad in and buried them both in the hole. After that he became a drug dealer.
That’s where I fit in to the story. I had a really bad day that day in my defense… You know what forget my defense. I wanted the Crystal. It was so good too. Daniel gave it to me as a free sample. He knew me pretty well. I don’t know how though. I never even met the guy before that day. He might have dated my sister once. I don’t know. She has too many boyfriends for me to keep up with.
SO yeah I tried the Crystal. It was awesome. I had to go to school to that day. Oops. Surprisingly it all worked out. I sat in class laughing so hard at my teacher. She sent me to he nurse to figure out why I couldn’t stop laughing. I thought for sure I was screwed then. She had me take all kinds of tests. Even a drug test. I got worried after that. But my result was negative I was so confused. After school I went and found Daniel to ask him about it. He said he makes all his drugs with a special mix of chemicals that make impossible to tell if you’re high or not. Aside from you acting like a weirdo. I asked for more but I didn’t have the money to pay for it that day. He said it was fine and to pay him back by the end of the week.
I never managed to pay him. Now he’s after me until I can pay him $5,000. Real reasonable right? But I can’t blame him its good stuff. The sight of the school brought me out of my thoughts. Yes just a little bit further. Daniel knew that once I got inside he couldn’t do anything to me. Daniel sped up and grabbed the air just behind me. Within a matter of seconds I jumped up the steps tore open the gray door that served as the main entrance to the school and ran inside. My shoes squeaked on the shiny, clean, white floors. Daniel pounded against the door in rage. He hated loosing. More importantly he hated loosing to me.
I slowed to a walk again in an attempt to catch my breath. The dull fading colors of what I think used to be orange, but is now yellow, walls greeted me. This school needs a new paint job I thought. I passed two rows of lockers and four doors before I reached my locker. I began dialing the combination. Left, right, left. A swarm of papers and books rushed out of my locker and onto my head. My poor, poor head I thought. Look at all the work I just made for myself. Today just keeps getting better as I go along.
I knelt down and began picking up all the scattered papers around me. I piled them all together along with whatever else was in my locker and threw them away. I clumsily picked up my books after failing and dropping them several times. I checked my watch 8:20. Only 10 minutes left of math class. I decided I didn’t feel like going to math. I hate the teacher. She is old, disgusting, and is always giving lectures. I grabbed my backpack and headed in the general direction of history class. I got to the hallway that the history class was in after wandering around the halls for a little while. I sat on the bench and listened to my I-Pod while I waited for math class to end. I closed my eyes. I love emo music. Always suits my mood.
Soon the bell rang and it was time to go. I pulled my earbudds out and shoved my I-Pod into my backpack. I fought my way into the history classroom nearly tripping on a backpack on the floor. I stumbled into the classroom and sat down. This is my favorite class because of Mary. She has short, curly, black hair. And blue eyes. She is very nice and cheerful. Nothing bad seems to happen to her. The worst that has happened to her was a B on a test. Generally I don’t like those people but somehow she was different. I really don’t know much about her but what I do know is enough for me. This is the only class I share with her but that’s fine with me as long as I share a class with her.
The only part I don’t like about this class is that Mr. Downing is a real pain. He is a major history lover. But whenever he didn’t like the outcome of a battle or war he didn’t teach us anything about it, and then decided we were going to be tested on it afterward. You can really see why he was named Downing. He is a little better than most teachers though. On days he doesn’t feel, or want to teach he gives the class a free day. During these days we can do anything. Some of use text, some listen to music, some talk, and the rest work. Those are the best days. I hoped and prayed for today to be one of those days.
Mr. Downing got out of his chair and walked to the middle g the classroom. “Class today I want you to write a two pager report on the American Revolution,” said Mr. Downing as he shuffled some papers around. I reluctantly pulled out my history book. I began to write my report when a piece of folded up paper landed on my book. I looked up to see who threw it. It was from Mary. She waved at me nervously. I pointed at myself to ask if it was for me. She nodded. I quickly unfolded the paper. It said…
Meet me on the elementary school playground after school. I really need to talk to you.
I nodded saying that I would meet her there. Five more classes to go. The bell rang loudly in my ears making me jump. I can’t believe the bell just scared me. I grabbed my backpack in an attempt to get out before the mob of people with mad cow disease swarmed me. But I am slow and got sucked in by the mob.
The next class is science. Mrs. Fucilla is the best teacher in the whole school. She lets us take care of all the animals that we learn about. They’re like pets only you dissect them at the end of the year. But some people cry before the experiment so we never have to dissect the little guys. That makes me sad. I want to cut open the snake. That thing is weird. It always seems to be staring at me. That snake is also my assignment. That may be why it stares at me. I’m the one that feeds it so I probably smell like rats. Disturbing thought I know but it makes sense.
- by XXXXXXXXXXXD |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 02/22/2010 |
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- Title: The Perfect Day part 1
- Artist: XXXXXXXXXXXD
- Description: I get bored quite often. But then one day I went to Detroit. Back to where I used to live. I met the boy thats living in my house. He had a story to tell. Soon after he died. Believe the story, or don't. For your benefit this was put in fiction. I just feel the need to write down his story. (note the names were switched around).
- Date: 02/22/2010
- Tags: perfect part
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Comments (2 Comments)
- XXXXXXXXXXXD - 02/25/2010
- Thanks
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- jmanpistol - 02/24/2010
- Not to bad..not to bad at all.
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