8th Grade Outcast Chapter 2- The inevitable

It was inevitable. It was bound to come. The beginning of the end. September 4th. The first day of school, AKA The First Day of Multiple Days of Torment. How could the sun shine so brightly on such a gloomy day!?
I knew it was time for school, but I really just wanted to sleep. I pulled my dark blue sheets over my head and waited. Sooner or later my mom would walk in with a frying pan and she'd bang something on it until I threw off my sheets and prepared for the day. When I didn't wake up with that method she brought in my brother who would scream in my ear, pour water on my head, or would sit on me until I would beg for mercy. Maybe school is not as bad as I make it out to be. It could actually be great if I give it a chance. NOT. Somehow this is what my mother believes and when I level down to her logic- it always ends up betraying me. I love my mother too much to get in her face about it though.
I got up from bed instead of having to deal with the "Mother and Brother Torture Team." As usual, my hair was everywhere. My brown brush was on my dresser by the door. WHY did it seem like such a far walk?! Yes, 10 feet IS long. Well, I didn't have to change because I wore my school clothes to bed. Blue jeans with a red flower that rested on my hip and the stem of the flower trailed down my leg. The shirt I wore was black and said, "Your lips are moving but all I hear is Blah, blah, blah."
By the way I act and dress I sound like a punk, right? I hate bales so seriously don't label me. It annoys me to an extreme. I walked over to the dresser while stretching and yawning. When I peeked in the mirror I saw that my hair wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I just started brushing it and I peeked at my alarm clock. It didn't go off today...it wasssss...6:45 AM. Wait, wait wait...school starts at 8 AM. Why am I up? I sighed and grabbed my blue jansport backpack. I used it last year, I'd use it this year too. Finding socks was a difficult task. I throw them in a drawer and walk away. It took me 12 minutes to find a pair of white socks. I glanced at my alarm clock. 6:45 AM. Wait a second...surely SOME time would've passed. That's when I knew it was a trick. Most likely by MIKE. I checked my cable box time and it said 7:30. What a cruel, cruel trick. Nothing is too low for Mike.
I walked downstairs and saw my mother running around the kitchen with a coffee in her right hand and Mike was laughing at the table with his mouth open and full of cheerios, a not so pretty sight.
"Nice trick, ey Horsey girl?" Mike said.
He calls me horsey girl because I used to have a collection of pony toys. I WAS 10!!
"Not funny Mike aka Mr. Dyke," I replied.
Mike hates when people say that and I'm the only one who actually would say that to his face.
"Enough you two! Get in the car I'll be there in a minute," My mother cut in. I hate when she does that. even though it may seem harsh I love fighting with Mike because he's such an idiot.
I grabbed a poptart. "Hey ma I think I'm sick!" I coughed twice.
"Nice try. Get in the car."
I sighed and walked to the car where I would be driven to Hell.1