That sun was ascending. Warm, tender light slightly flooded the room. A bird chirped far away, slowly followed by other chirping. It was a normal morning in Vancouver. I heard the white noise of cars rush by, and the constant beeping of the crosswalks. But all I listened to was the birds, they made me feel ease-full. It was a perfect temperature and feel under my covers. I'd rather die than lift the blanket off of me. I looked to my left, 7:34. School starts at 8:30. I thought "I'll just sleep a little bit longer". As does every other teenage boy when it's early.
I awoke to an abrupt gust of freezing cold air, overwhelming my entire body. I shot up in shock and fear. I saw my Mom fondling my covers boisterously.
"GET UP GET UP GET UP!" she yelped putting my blanket down.
She threw my clothes at me, they weren't what I wanted to wear, so I wanted to wait until she left my room so I could go into my drawers and pick something appropriate. She left to go wake up my Sister. I heard some screams and moans, and then a brief moment later the sound of water; then a hair dryer. I didn't understand people, why not take a shower before going to sleep? I mean, if you're going to be rushing in the morning; then there's no time to be showering. Do you know how long it takes to put on socks when your feet are slightly wet? Or how awkward it is when your hair is slightly wet and people say
"Why is your hair greasy?"
And then you're like
"It's not greasy, it's just slightly wet"
And then they're like
and then you say
"Feel it then"
and then they go
"Ewww what the hell, I'm not going to feel that, gross"
See, it's awkward. I tend to always think too much about everything. And I'm really insecure, and not too self-dependable; always anxious and never trust myself and I always lose things and I'm very sensitive. It might be because of my ADHD. School's difficult because of it. And to top it off, I'm dyslexic too. So forget about concentration and success. My clothes was all black, to match my hair. I looked like an "Emo" kid for sure. I'm Caucasian, I died my hair black, I'm wearing a black Green Day shirt with a bleeding heart grenade on the front, black skinny jeans and pure black leather Converse. I opened my door, and continued to exit my penthouse. Yes, I live in a penthouse. I pressed the elevator's "down" button, I heard humming and then the doors clicked open. I looked at all of the floor's buttons. Seven hundred and twenty two buttons. Odd how the apartment only has Seven hundred and twenty one floors. And my penthouse is the one at the top. The button to the Seven hundredth and twenty second floor is broken, but there no seven hundredth and twenty second floor, so the button is useless. I pressed "M1", which is the main floor. The doors abruptly opened, there was no delay. Technology is so advanced these days. I stepped onto the red tiles. The security guard was wearing a Vancouver Olympics 3010 jacket. It's weird how he always wears stuff on top of his security outfit, it's kind of insubordinate. He was asleep, as usual. I walked past. And continued toward the parking lot. I walked to my yellow Honda and leaned on it waiting for my Mother and Sister to get over here. I saw them come around the other side of the car, rushing intensely. My mom used her remote car key. The bottom of our hover car turned blue, and it slowly started to levitate. We all opened the doors almost in a synchronized manner. The car shook a little bit. I got in, sitting next to my Sister. I could hear her music, her headphones to her "IPhone 259" were too loud, as usual. She was listening to that stupid modern stuff. All I hear is bleeps and bass, it sucks. All of the singing is intensely auto-tuned. I like the Classic stuff, like Green Day or The Black Eyed Peas. They're epic, my Sister highly disagrees. She'd much rather listen to the song JohoYeYe do th song "FutureBass". My Sister Amanda's so lucky, she gets an "Iphone 259" All I get's a lame old school "Iphone 257" Hers' is paper thin, mine is as thick as two papers placed onto one-another, it's so bulky. Plus hers' has five cameras, mine only has four. She has Infrared, Night vision, Photo/Video, DNA/Fingerprint scanner and one specially designed for sunsets. Mine doesn't have Night vision, it's so ghetto. I looked out of the window and saw the city below, the lower region's people treated their home terribly, us upper region people are actually respectful to the environment we live in, I guess that's why they have to live down there. I've never been down there, never want to either. I always hear gunshots and explosions. Never screams though. I've never been properly told why they have to live down there, and why we get to live up here, above the clouds.
The car halted to a stop, causing dust to exhale outwards underneath. It lowered, the blue radiance fading away and the humming sound distorting and silencing. I cranked open the door. I stepped out onto the school's parking lot. Its blue tiles were comforting and sleek. I walked over to the door that said "ENTER" on its glass covering that was tinted a soft green. I entered. I smelt that smell of the school that is so significant and somehow soothing; the scent of glue and cardboard, with a small tinge of roses, it's unknown how that aura is always present. There aren't any flowers anywhere in the school. It's a really old place, we have doors that we have to open with our bare hands. We have to literally turn a knobby thing and then push or pull. It's insanity! No one wants do that! Plus think of all the germs on those handles, what if I get cancer! It's so gross... All of the other schools have motion-vertical slide-sheets, (MV-SS), or, "mivs" as every one calls them.
There were a few kids at their desks. I sat in mine, mine was in the back of the class; where I liked it. The teacher was one scary woman. She never taught anything. All she ever did was sit at the front of the class eating an apple and glaring. Sometimes she mumbled a little. She pointed at the chalkboard which had nothing on it and uttered out a word or two which were totally incomprehensible. The class just looked up and kind of pretended to have acknowledgement. Miss Binch wasn't well respected, I wonder what 'Mister' Binch goes through at home. I can just imagine him on his computer, and in his side vision he sees her owling on a table eating dinner, staring into his soul.
I stopped daydreaming abruptly, she wrote down something on the chalkboard. The writing was really scribbled and weird, I attempted to understand it.
"I WI!L KILI CQdY MmaZ0n"
What did it say?
It almost looks like it says...
Binch's mouth opened, she needs to brush her fangs. Wait... fangs... OhH SHI-