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Writing Living the life of me (PG-13)


Viper0529
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Darkness, sweet sweet darkness. I love the feeling of snuggling up to a pillow when you know that you don?t have to be up for several hours. Just to have a basic idea of how much time I have left to snooze, I gaze lazily over to the alarm clock. Its red letters strike fear into my heart. 5:40 AM. I blink for a few seconds, thinking that this might be a mirage. No, even after wiping my eyes a few times with my blanket doesn?t help. I am going to be moving in five minutes. Even though my efforts are fruitless, I try to make the best of it. Five minutes...I could fall asleep in five minutes. I hate Mondays.

No, sadly, I don?t get a wink of satisfaction before the Satan noise of my alarm goes off. It is the stereotypical "bat out of hell" noise. Kind of like a "BREE!" mixed with a foghorn. I hate it, but better than my sisters old [I]Minnie Mouse[/I] alarm clock. I really hated that thing. I slowly get up and fling my still active alarm clock against my closet door. The noise stops on impact, which satisfies me. Then I let out a string of profanity that would make "Little John" cringe. It was time to seize the day.

Today was going to be a bad day. I knew it from the very beginning. I put on my lucky Irish boxers on. They have little clovers on it and the words "good luck!" printed on it. Even the boxers know that they're lucky. Then I put on a plain white muscle shirt and some jeans. Today is going to be interesting. I go downstairs and find that my sister, Lauren, has her nose buried in some book. It is "Running With Scissors". I have not read that, but would like to. I pour myself a bowl of honey-nut cheerios. I hate that stuff, but for some unknown reason, I keep eating it.

I get in my car and wait for my sister to get in. We have a red Honda civic. It is my baby and I would kill for it. We then drive out to get my sister's boyfriend, Jamie. Jamie is a cool guy with really red hair, but isn?t Irish. This disappointed me at first, but then I realized that he is pretty cool, regardless to his heritage. Apparently, Jamie and Lauren are in a fight, for they aren't talking. This makes me uncomfortable, so I put in some metal. "Disturbed" would be good right now. Of course, I have to make all of the noises that the lead singer would make right in their faces, due to the fact that I?m evil. Anyone who has ever listened to Disturbed knows the noises I am talking about.

We get to my school and find a decent parking lot. I put my CD player on immediately and put in "Iron Maiden". I was going into school head banging, looking like a retard, but it was nothing new. My school is called Richland... [U]RICH[/U]land. So almost everyone had an iPod or some expensive cell phone that has video recording, picture taking, message sending, game playing, unlimited talking capabilities. I look down at my cell phone that has a cool background...that?s about it. Also, something weird about my school. It is in Pennsylvania, so it is about 99.98% white. I am white also, and I have nothing against other people, but its kind of creepy that we are all the same color. Hitler would be proud.

First period is Theater. My favorite class. The only problem is that it is right early in the morning. Regardless of my sleep problems, I am still directing a piece for the "Spring Showcase" that is in two weeks. The showcase is where an actor picks a book or poem, turns it into a play, casts it out of other actors in the classes, works props and lights, and shows his work to an audience. A lot of work. I am doing Anthony Burgesses' masterpieces, [U]A Clockwork Orange[/U], and that is a hassle trying to censor everything...very tricky.

Second period, Biology. I am in the class with the scum of the earth. I don?t know exactly how I got in this class, nor do I care. I just hate all of the children in my class, they are all evil children of a motherless whore. My hate for them is so great, it cant be put into physical words, just a series of grunts and hand gestures. The class itself is easy, but its the people that makes it a living hell.

Then comes band, luckily, we had a study hall today. My day was spent talking to friends about anything from the French to Hinduism. I also listened to my CD player and slept on those uncomfortable folding chairs.

Gym, my favorite period of the day. Filled with barbaric rituals and throwing volley balls at little geeks. Ahh, memories. Today, however, we are playing Frisbee? What the ****?. Frisbee is not supposed to be in Gym! I make the best of it and try to do matrix moves without too much success. I guess bullet time isn?t meant for "ULTIMATE FRISBEE". Anyway, this isn?t important. What happened in the Locker room was the most exciting thing of the day. For some reason, I am prone to fighting. It is not a daily thing, more of a "once every two weeks" thing. And today was one of those days. Apparently, some kid got me confused with someone else and decided that I stole his girlfriend or something weird. I don?t associate with Freshmen, so I kind of shrugged him off. Now, I?m not going to say who threw the first punch, but I threw the last...lets just end it there.

Then comes world cultures, the class with not one, not two, but three ex-girlfriends, who all hate me, because I broke up with them. It never ends well, I learned. The day was full of strange glances, bookwork, and me laughing at stupid people when they ask dumb questions. My favorite was when one blonde (not being mean) said that "The Nazi party was a Dutch group....right?" I don?t think I need to say anything.

Then comes lunch. Today was taco day, which makes me happy. My circle of friends are treating me like an outcast for some reason. This confuses me, for I am a usually nice guy. I have my mean streaks, but I can be OK usually. However, they are treating me like a leper. After some yelling and painful interrogation, I find out they were just being jack***es. I punch one kid in the arm.

English, a good class with good people. Mainly Alex, who is my best friend in Pittsburgh. He broke his leg, so I have to make fun of him and steal his crutches. We are reading [U]Caesar[/U] in English, so I try to understand what is going on when other people try to act, but fail miserably. I laugh at their misfortune and lack of friends.

Then comes Art, a class that I realized was a waste the first time I went in there. I am not saying art itself is a waste, I just didn?t realize how bad I was until there were other people there. Ashamed, I hide myself in the back. I assumed the nickname "Gollum" due to my uncanny resemblance to him and our love for raw fish.

Math, the last period of the day. It was a Good News/Bad News class.

GOOD NEWS!: substitute, the teacher wench is gone, everyone celebrate!

BAD NEWS!: I have a 67% in that class. I stare at the note, maybe it is a mistake, but no...67, wow.

As soon as the final bell rang, the entire class sprung out to the door like a stampede of wild animals. I was at the very front, and I was beating my challengers for my alpha male slot back as I race to my locker, grab my stuff, whip out my cell phone, and call my sister to tell her to get her *** in the car. I peal out and we are the first ones out. VICTORY.

I pull into the garage and I see him in the garden doing who knows what. I trudge up to my room like a man going to death row, take off my backpack, and sit down. I just sit in my chair for about five minutes, staring off into space and wondering what has just happened. I go downstairs and toil away over a hot textbook and I can feel my mind decaying with useless knowledge about vectors. I decide that I?m going to go for a run.

My favorite run is to run Emmett road, which is about 7 miles down the road, where there is a health club I am a member of, then I run back. This is no pansy run. This is like a biblical trek across the Sahara. The only thing strange about this run was that there was another runner following me the entire time. It was a middle aged man in a professional running uniform. I run faster, so does he. I slow down, so does he. I sprint the rest of the way.

After some exercise I begin the trek back, and there is no creepy stalker this time, although there is something else kind of strange. There is a hill right next to my house, and there were a bunch of bikes on the side of the grass going down. I look down while running and I see a kid down there. I slow down to see what he is doing, and he CLIMBS INTO A HOLE. I have no idea what this hole is all about, though I?ll check it out later.

So here I am, sitting still in my running clothes, and I?m dying to take a shower.

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

~Matt
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