Begin at the beginning, do not skim for you will miss the most important words and keep reading until you reach the end. At that point then stop.
I did not know why but when I woke up this morning I knew I was going to have the worst day, and not my typical horrible outfit, fat day worst day. No officially the worst day. The morning started like every Monday morning did; I woke up earlier than usual trying not to wake up my best friend whom I shared a room with, I actually was able to take a warm shower since no one was awake yet, I popped my daily pills, dressed in my usual jeans with a basic Alice in Wonderland shirt, and took a twenty minute back road to school.
This was my daily Monday routine; I would arrive to school at seven in the morning fifty minutes before the dreadful high school classes began. As usual the hallways were empty and the only people ready for the day was the old librarian and my teacher Mr. Henderson. I walk to his room to finish the school newspaper; our Monday mornings consist of the same conversation every week.
“If you were more dedicated of an editor you would not have to come in every Monday,” he tells me.
“I come in every Monday morning because I am dedicated.” I respond every Monday when this comes up.
I finish exporting pages 1 through 6 of the 12 page newspaper and walk to my first period just before the second bell rang.
I had government which was dreadful enough alone, but the thought that every single day until the final day of graduation I would have to sit right behind Andrew Hart. When I would think of him Atmosphere lyrics would swarm my head and I would think of all the possibilities I had to not fuck up.
“Because you look like the way I feel when I’m with you.”
I got use to being ignored by Andrew when I walked into class, but today was different, he wasn’t there. Andrew did not miss school, he wasn’t the smart guy, first one in the class prepared already starting the daily assignment but he was always there and always there before I was.
Mr. Hoff opened with our government’s right to search private property and the process of getting a search warrant, I was almost thankful that Andrew was not there so I can keep up with this class. Failing any class this semester puts me into the category of super senior and like the junior class would welcome me as the stupid girl who steals boyfriends.
Bam! Andrew opens the door, wide open banging it against the white board.
“You fucking killed her,” he screams.
I did not understand was he screaming at me? What the hell did I do, I was so used to him ignoring me and making ignorance his tool to keep out of trouble. He starts to yell again and this time makes it clear his yelling is directed towards no one else in the room but me.
“Burn in hell¸ go take your fucking car and drive off a bridge. Overdose, cut yourself, please just find a way that I will never have to hear your voice or see your face ever again. Leave this world, fucking leave!” he screams. It looked as though he was leaving, everyone in the class was in a state of shock the room seemed as though everyone was part of a freeze frame and this was the time when someone would walk up to the screen and explain what was going on and the scene would continue. But this was not a show or movie; no readers this is high school, sometimes it seems more real than the real life that surrounds us daily.