The First Day of School

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The alarm clock buzzed loudly beside my ear. Feeling like a gong that was being hit repeatedly was placed right beside my head. I sluggishly pulled myself out of my bed and dragged myself to my closet. The words, first day of school moaned ghastly in my head. Summer was uneventful and school was just going to be hell. I picked out an old, worn out flannel and a pair of jeans to wear. Not rushing at all, I struggled to put the raggedy clothes on. They smelt like horrendous lies and rumors. Exactly what this state and my school are built on. The kitchen was empty, signaling that I was the only one awake. I looked in the fridge for breakfast, and found one egg and 6 mini sausages left. After staring at the almost empty fridge, I kept a mental note to remind dad to go grocery shopping soon. I searched every square inch of the kitchen for a clean pan to cook on and as soon as I found one, I immediately lit the stove and placed the pan over top the heat. I crack the egg and let it sizzle while I reach for the cabinet that contains all of the plates. I put the small plate beside the stove and turn the egg over quickly to cook the yolk. I do the same with the six sausages and place them by the egg. I smile. It's been a long time since I actually cooked for myself and it ended successfully. Before I'm even able to sit down, I hear the awakened dragon of man stink and raging hormones, for my wonderful stepbrother David obviously smelt food. Being the beast he is, he snatched the plate from me, then sneeringly grinned and proceeded to ask sarcastically, "Oh, I'm sorry Alan. Were you going to eat this?" I stared. "Yes..." I say, letting out a small sigh. "Awe, well that's too bad. Maybe you could go suck a dick somewhere for break... ... middle of paper ... ...stare at me. "As you should know, Truman's new here. But, he doesn't like his seat..." Truman continues to stare, making whatever it is in my practically empty stomach suddenly begin to come up. "Would you mind if you two were to switch?" He asks, but I'm too concerned on spewing chunks everywhere. This guy's eyes is putting serious pressure on me and I don't know why. "Alan?" Mr. Foreman calls out to me & when I open my mouth to try to respond to the question asked, I start to think how stupid a thing to do that was. I loose whatever was in my stomach and barf all over Mr. Foreman. Jesus. Christ. Laughter erupts in both mine and Mr. Foreman's dismay. I glance over at Truman who surprisingly looks understanding. Run away. Is what the voices inside my head shout, and I do just that. I know exactly what's going on now, and I honestly hope that new kid doesn't.

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