Dear Diary,2
KILL ME NOW!3
Well, you'd think that after a day such as yesterday (happy, gleaming, joyful...perfect!) I'd be feeling fresh, and "renewed", I guess you could say. And yet, this very statement is wrong on oh, so many levels. Alright..last night: party, booze, alcohol, liquor
uhh... (as you can plainly see, at this moment in time I was still bearing the effects of this monstrous gap in rational thought). This morning: hangover, migraine, $70 worth of torn clothing (don't ask), and an Aspirin. That is, if I can find one in this mess. I finally manage to compose myself enough in order to (somewhat) present myself in public without scaring off the little children. Where did that damn backpack go? Argh, never-mind.. I can always bum a piece of paper off somebody. And my lunch?!..I can buy lunch. BEEP. What in the name of-? That would be the bus. VROOM. And that would be the bus driving away. Joy. Bliss. Rapture. What now? Uh...think quick, Samantha..use your noggin' (which, by the way was still in pain just then).4Alright, Plan B: grab as many crumbs as you possibly can, and run to school, praying all the way. So, in attempt to fulfill Plan B successfully, I grabbed the remains of hundreds of meals strewn amongst the floor, and bolted. Two minutes into my little jog, and down I go..into a puddle. Must have been 'cause I forgot to pray. Oh well, get up and move along, these things happen. 5
So, I manage to get to school on some ungodly string of luck that passed over me only then. RING. Lovely. I'm late. Oh well, the worst the teacher could possibly give me is detention, right? Wrong. {This is the part when I was flung hastily into the hallway, and sworn at with terrifying rage}. {This is the part when I black out for never experiencing such fear of a 90 year old woman before}. I awake in a room smelling of dampenness. The redemption room. Right then I could taste the fear of every child ever sentenced to this mighty hell. I wanted my mommy. Sitting up, I wondered if there were the bodies of little children scattered in the walls. Then, the rational part of me wondered if I needed to be placed in some sort of institution for generating stupid thoughts like that. 6
I sat there, contemplating my idiocy for quite some time, when a lady dressed in black opened the (blood?) stained doors and said that the man would see me now. Man? What man? At this point, the madness egging on my brain convinced me that I WAS being taken to some form of institution. (God love the brain of a tenth grader). I followed her into a lighter office with plants in every corner. Sitting in front of a large brown desk was the principal, Mr. Bozza, and perched in front of him was my mother, looking as displeased as ever. They talked about how I had been late fourhundred and thirty nine times in a month. What?.. Did these people have no compassion?! Argh. In any case, compassion or not, I was supended. Flung from the doors of the educational cult that I, unfortunately, was a part of. My mother told me to get my things from my locker and she went to wait in the car, a look of 'I could kill you, kid!' on her face. Since I had forgotten my books this morning (lost was more like it), I had not reason to go to my locker. However, the alternative, my P-ed off mother wasn't looking too tempting either. I went off wandering, in search of nothing and no one. Just wandering aimlessly throughout the halls of this cult's gathering place.7
hobbles off to write part two
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Adding your comment:
*hands you a quarter for a good story*
Veronica
Thanks for sharing.
