Author's Note:I'd like to thank Yardbird_9, who inspired me to write this. He offered me support and suggestions so, thanks.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold! If I did, Brainy would have his own episode by now, Arnold would still daydream, and Valentines Day would be AFTER Thanksgiving. ANYWAY, onto the story!
Another Day
Chapter One
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
I slam the alarm clock off of the desk, irritated. What an obnoxious invention.
I put on my glasses and adjusted my eyes to the light.
Grudgingly, I get up, careful not to trip over the piles of dirty clothes and who knows what else. I doubt most of the clothes were even mine. I can't stand my room. It's so appalling. Mom tries to get me to clean it up, but it's just not worth my time.
I know sanitation won't last long here.
Before getting dressed, I eyed the framed photo of my parents and me hanging on the wall. Slowly, I reach for it and pull it towards me, taking a closer look.
The picture had been taken a month ago. We couldn't afford to get it professionally taken, so we paid some bum on the street to take it. We were fortunate that this time he didn't run off with our camera, not to mention our money. I think my parents trust people too much.
Angry now, I placed the picture back on the nail it had been hanging on. Angry, I am always angry. I don't know why, but it's like things get to me so easily. What was I angry about this time? I don't really know.
Wait, yes I do. I'm angry at THEM. All those rich people, my peers, fellow citizens…all of them. They don't know how well off they are.
THEY can afford to get their hair professionally cut. My father has to cut my hair with a bowl. Is that fair? I don't think so.
Okay, so I'm a geek. So what if I don't have the best hygiene in the world? I'm a kid, I'm allowed to be a little lazy now and then, right? Wrong.
I remember when I was younger, how they all used to tease me. Everyone, laughing at me… I couldn't take it. I totally flipped out and the next thing I knew, I was known as the crazy kid. Well, that's alright I suppose. Better than being known as the geek in the corner who has to wear the same clothes everyday.
I don't have much to wear. I have maybe five shirts, and three pairs of shorts. Most of which I've been wearing for the past three years. Sometimes there's nothing clean to wear so I am forced to wear the same thing two days in a row.
I don't talk to my parents about it. I don't want them to be worried or to feel bad. It's not really their fault that we're poor. Dad's job doesn't pay well, and Mom is going to have to get a job now just so that we can afford to pay the bills.
I don't want my mom to work. She's got a bad back and I'm afraid she'll hurt herself somehow. Maybe I'm just being irrational, but I don't know what else to think. It's hard for her just doing housework. And where is she going to get a job, anyway?
Who would hire her?
I shook my head, trying to get the gruesome images out of my head. Why did I have to worry so much? I'm only nine years old! I shouldn't be worrying about these things!
I headed to my closet, cautious of the disaster on the floor.
"Hm, I wonder what I should wear today," I mumbled aloud to myself, surveying the empty closet.
I sighed and scanned the floor for clothes. I found a pair of shorts I'd worn the day before and an old shirt and put them on. Aggravated now, I opened my drawers to discover that I was out of clean socks.
"ERRRRRRR!" I growled, careful to be quiet about it so my parents wouldn't hear.
I slammed the drawers closed and sat in the middle of my room and cried. The fact is, I have to go through this every day. No wonder I never have time to take a shower in the morning.
So once again I searched the floor for an old pair of socks and found two that didn't even match. But I didn't care; I don't have time to care.
I glanced at my alarm clock. Why did I have an alarm clock when I only had three pairs of shorts? It made no sense. Especially because I despised my alarm clock.
The numbers flashed "7:30" in big, bold letters. Great. Now I'm going to be late for the bus. I'll have to walk to school, and chances are, I'll be late because I don't live close enough to make it on time walking.
I stood in front of the mirror and combed my ratty black hair. I grinned, a phony, evil grin to start the day. As long as I wore the mask of insanity they wouldn't make fun of me. Just fear me.
Better to be feared than rejected, right? I think so. Having had the benefit of both experiences, I'd say my opinion on the matter should count for something. Then again, I'm just a poor city boy, a geek, the crazy kid. What do I know?
After a bathroom break and brushing my teeth, I ran out of the house without so much as a goodbye to my mother. I would have to apologize later.
I've come to the obvious conclusion that my life sucks.
Author's Note: Next chapter should have more dialogue. r&r please!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold! If I did, Brainy would have his own episode by now, Arnold would still daydream, and Valentines Day would be AFTER Thanksgiving. ANYWAY, onto the story!
Another Day
Chapter One
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
I slam the alarm clock off of the desk, irritated. What an obnoxious invention.
I put on my glasses and adjusted my eyes to the light.
Grudgingly, I get up, careful not to trip over the piles of dirty clothes and who knows what else. I doubt most of the clothes were even mine. I can't stand my room. It's so appalling. Mom tries to get me to clean it up, but it's just not worth my time.
I know sanitation won't last long here.
Before getting dressed, I eyed the framed photo of my parents and me hanging on the wall. Slowly, I reach for it and pull it towards me, taking a closer look.
The picture had been taken a month ago. We couldn't afford to get it professionally taken, so we paid some bum on the street to take it. We were fortunate that this time he didn't run off with our camera, not to mention our money. I think my parents trust people too much.
Angry now, I placed the picture back on the nail it had been hanging on. Angry, I am always angry. I don't know why, but it's like things get to me so easily. What was I angry about this time? I don't really know.
Wait, yes I do. I'm angry at THEM. All those rich people, my peers, fellow citizens…all of them. They don't know how well off they are.
THEY can afford to get their hair professionally cut. My father has to cut my hair with a bowl. Is that fair? I don't think so.
Okay, so I'm a geek. So what if I don't have the best hygiene in the world? I'm a kid, I'm allowed to be a little lazy now and then, right? Wrong.
I remember when I was younger, how they all used to tease me. Everyone, laughing at me… I couldn't take it. I totally flipped out and the next thing I knew, I was known as the crazy kid. Well, that's alright I suppose. Better than being known as the geek in the corner who has to wear the same clothes everyday.
I don't have much to wear. I have maybe five shirts, and three pairs of shorts. Most of which I've been wearing for the past three years. Sometimes there's nothing clean to wear so I am forced to wear the same thing two days in a row.
I don't talk to my parents about it. I don't want them to be worried or to feel bad. It's not really their fault that we're poor. Dad's job doesn't pay well, and Mom is going to have to get a job now just so that we can afford to pay the bills.
I don't want my mom to work. She's got a bad back and I'm afraid she'll hurt herself somehow. Maybe I'm just being irrational, but I don't know what else to think. It's hard for her just doing housework. And where is she going to get a job, anyway?
Who would hire her?
I shook my head, trying to get the gruesome images out of my head. Why did I have to worry so much? I'm only nine years old! I shouldn't be worrying about these things!
I headed to my closet, cautious of the disaster on the floor.
"Hm, I wonder what I should wear today," I mumbled aloud to myself, surveying the empty closet.
I sighed and scanned the floor for clothes. I found a pair of shorts I'd worn the day before and an old shirt and put them on. Aggravated now, I opened my drawers to discover that I was out of clean socks.
"ERRRRRRR!" I growled, careful to be quiet about it so my parents wouldn't hear.
I slammed the drawers closed and sat in the middle of my room and cried. The fact is, I have to go through this every day. No wonder I never have time to take a shower in the morning.
So once again I searched the floor for an old pair of socks and found two that didn't even match. But I didn't care; I don't have time to care.
I glanced at my alarm clock. Why did I have an alarm clock when I only had three pairs of shorts? It made no sense. Especially because I despised my alarm clock.
The numbers flashed "7:30" in big, bold letters. Great. Now I'm going to be late for the bus. I'll have to walk to school, and chances are, I'll be late because I don't live close enough to make it on time walking.
I stood in front of the mirror and combed my ratty black hair. I grinned, a phony, evil grin to start the day. As long as I wore the mask of insanity they wouldn't make fun of me. Just fear me.
Better to be feared than rejected, right? I think so. Having had the benefit of both experiences, I'd say my opinion on the matter should count for something. Then again, I'm just a poor city boy, a geek, the crazy kid. What do I know?
After a bathroom break and brushing my teeth, I ran out of the house without so much as a goodbye to my mother. I would have to apologize later.
I've come to the obvious conclusion that my life sucks.
Author's Note: Next chapter should have more dialogue. r&r please!