Ugh. I hate Mondays. In fact, I can't think of any 17 year old who does like them. Most of my family and friends love Mondays because they are "the start of a beautiful new week". Bullshit. They are the most horrible thing created. I have to hit my snooze alarm three times to actually get the motivation to get out of bed. And this Monday was like any other Monday.
I woke up to my annoying alarm beeping. I reached over and slammed my hand down on the snooze button and fell back to sleep in a few seconds. Before I knew it, the alarm went off again. I decided to get up before dad came in and beat me for all the noise my alarm was making. He wasn't the nicest person, my dad. If he ever had too much to drink, or was just pissed, I was his punching bag. I had grown used to it. I would usually run out into the woods in the back of our house and stay there for a few days before coming back. It was always rewarded with a belt to my ass, but sometimes I just needed a break.
I got up and turned on my bedroom light. I went over to my closet and pulled out a black camisole and army green button up shirt that said "US ARMY" on the front. I then pulled out a pair of tan cargo pants. I always dress like this. It is what I always wore when I was younger. Now it was the only thing I am comfortable in.
"SAPHIRRE!" my younger brother, Griffon, yelled. He walked up to my room and opened the door, which banged loudly against the wall.
"Are you crazy?!" I whisper yell. "Could you be any fucking louder?! Do you want dad to hear you and beat us again? Huh?"
"Sorry" He says, leaning out the door and looking down the hall to make sure that dad was still asleep. He stepped back into my room and shut the door, quietly this time. "He's not awake. That bastard can sleep through anything."
"Anyway, what do you want?" I ask, curious as to why he would risk yelling this early in the morning.
"I wanted to make sure you were up and ready to go" he said, looking down at his feet, as if he were ashamed at such a stupid reason to yell.
"You couldn't have just come up here and told me?" I asked.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking" he replied.
"It's okay, just don't do that again. I don't want to get in trouble." I said.
We stood in silence for a moment, and then I looked over at the clock on my night stand.
"We should probably head to school. We have ten minutes before the late bell rings" I said, breaking the silence. We live right next about a block away from our school, so we didn't have a very far walk, but I still didn't want to be late for class again.
Griffon nodded and walked out of my room, leaving me to gather my things. I grab my torn up backpack that I had owned for 3 years now. I walk quietly down the stairs, careful to skip over the second step from the bottom that creaks really loud. Griffon is already walking out the door. I walk out after him, and we start down the block.
Our walks to school are usually quiet and awkward. Today was no different. We get to our homeroom just as the late bell is ringing. We took our normal seats in the back with all the "goths" as people tend to call them. The teacher was taking role when an announcement came over the intercom.
It was our principle.
"Teachers, please turn on your televisions to channel 8 News. Thank you" he concluded.
The teacher looked confused, but did as she was told and turned the TV on to channel 8. At first it was just the weather woman, and I was really confused as to why he wanted us to watch the weather. Then another newsman came on, and I could instantly tell something was wrong.