Traffic
Their fighting again. They always are. I can hear them with my door shut and my hand over my ears. It's horrible. Mom says she loves him but it just the Stockholm syndrome keeping us here. They stop. Mom probably gave up on what ever they were fighting about in the first place. He's coming upstairs now I can hear him. I wait and pray, pray he just keeps walking by my door and into his room. It is exactly fourteen steep from the last stair to my room for me that is, it only takes him nine. So I count. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. And nine. Ten. I let out a breath, I am lucky tonight.
Tonight is Sunday and eleven thirty six, tomorrow I have school. I organize all my things for tomorrow. My backpack is incredibly heavy I hate putting everything in it. Tomorrow I have life science, calculus, world history, and humanities. Its only two text books and four binder's right. How heavy can that be? Well when you weigh only about ninety or less pounds, your backpack seems very heavy. Once my backpack is all in order I lay out my clothes for tomorrow. A long sleeve shirt, extremely large jeans, and an old burgundy sweater I found in the lost in found. I then go into my desk and pull out cover-up and place it in my bag, some bruises like to show up later on.
I slowly walkover to my bed and lay down. I sigh and look to my side there is the book I had read last night. It's a dictionary. I gave up on the books in our house there was nothing left to read and I was bored. The school does give us books to read but I read those already. And I would rather not read them again. The next word in the dictionary is genial adjective definition: having a kind and good-natured disposition or manner. I close the dictionary and place it back on the floor. I then turn over and look at the glowing red alarm clock, eleven fifty two. I close my eyes and pray that my father does not wake up tonight.
I start my day at five each morning. My alarm goes off and I silence as fast as I can, so I do not wake my father. I head to the kitchen; I have to make breakfast everyday. At exactly five fifty four my father comes into the kitchen. I serve him and wait in the family room for him to finish. He leaves at six thirteen each morning. I return to the kitchen at six twelve and take his dishes to the sink. My mother comes down at six forty two, she makes her own breakfast, and I make my own also.
School starts at eight, and it is now seven zero three. I have nothing better to do so I go back to my room and read another word out of the dictionary. The next word after genial is geniality and this word doesn't count because it means they same thing. So the next word is really genic. Meaning: relating to, consisting of, or produced by a gene or genes. I continue to read the dictionary until I get to the word intolerant. I marked the page and get ready for school. Before I go I check my self in the mirror to make sure there are no bruises visible. There is a little over my left cheek, so I pull out the cover-up and hide the burse.
I walk through the kitchen and right by my mother. It is not even seven thirty yet and she is crying. By eight o'clock she'll be drinking. I don't look at her. I can't. I keep my eyes on the ground and leave my home.
The high school is not far from my house only about a block or two. But in October it feels like miles. I can see my breath and I try to warm my hand with it. When I reach the school my hands are frozen and my shoulders are sore. I reach for the door to the main hallway but, before I can open it someone else does. They bump right into me while they walk in. Some teenaged boy most likely a junior. They always seem not to care about others.
"Sorry kid."
That hurt. Physically yes but mostly emotionally. I hate being called a kid. 'I'm just as smart as you' I want to say but, it never comes out. I doubt it ever will.
It is seven forty three so I go to the library, I need another book anyways. There I find Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky and it seems long enough to last awhile. The warning bell rings after I had read the first chapter. I seal the book and set off for life science. I am the first in my seat but, that's not unusual. I don't think the teacher even notices me. I sit three rows away from the front of the class room. My teacher Mr. Hale made me sit here, where as my other teacher let me sit where I wanted. Even from the third row I could not see well. Not that my eyes were bad it was just that I was small.
Other students file in and my lad partner joins me. Her name is Madison, and she is beautiful. Blond hair, blue eyes, and popular. She doesn't talk to me unless forced to. I don't blame her I wouldn't want to talk to me either. She sits down next tome with her new boyfriend next to her; they smile and laugh at nothing. She gives him a kiss then smirks at another boy across the room. A love triangle. Mr. Hale yells for the students to sit down. They don't, so he yells again, this time the sit. He then takes role. I can't stop looking at Madison. She captivates me, bet I don't captivate her. It's stupid to have a crush on her. I'm to smart to like her, she probably doesn't know the difference between and electron and a proton. It stupid, anyways why would she want to go out with me? I'm just a freak. A nerd and a geek. I am nothing to her but a grade.
"James Patterson?" asked Mr. Hale.
"Here!" said James Patterson
"Spencer Reid?"
I raise my hand high so that he can see it then bring it down quickly. In the process of bring my hand down quickly I hit Madison.
"Sorry, sorry!" I say promptly.
"Whatever." She said back.
Maybe that was on omen that something was going to happen. Maybe not. Well it couldn't any worse then hitting a girl, could it.
Apparently it could. I eat lunch behind the library, and I didn't think any one knew I was back there. That was until Madison's new boyfriend came around the corner with his three stooges.
"Hey kid I heard you were hitting on my girl." Said Madison's boyfriend.
Did he mean literally or figuratively? I was too afraid to ask. I was too afraid to answer but, I don't think they really wanted one. Two of the stooges grabbed my arms and I winced. They pulled me to a locker and I knew what was happening. It has happened many times before. I was just about ready to jump right into the locker then be forced into it. But rather then have them think I was crazy I allowed them to place me in the locked not as gently as I had hoped for though. They shut the door and I could hear them laughing. They stayed for a few moments then left. I stayed in the sealed locker until I was completely sure they were gone. I pushed hard against the door and the locker opened and I fell out.
I really didn't want to go to my next classes but, then again I didn't want to go home. In world history I recuperated and in humanities I relaxed. I loved my humanities class. I had to do nothing I could just read. And I was able to finish Crime and Punishment without stopping. I returned it to the library before I let school. School ends at three ten, and I get home at three twenty one. My father gets home at four seventeen, and my mother started drinking at eight twenty eight.
When I got home my mother was passed out on the couch with I glass of wine in her hand. I gently take the glass from her and dump what was left in it down the sink. I go over to the hall closet and pull out a blanket for her. When she is cleaned up I head to my room and start on my home work.
I heard the door open at four thirty three. This was not good. He did not come home late unless he was mad. He yelled at my unconscious mother for awhile then I heard him come up the stairs. I counted the number of steps, up until the last one then I started over. One…two…three…four…five…six…seven…eight…pause…nine.
I prayed.
i hoped you liked it plz r&r
