The Extremely Crappy Days at Ashfield High

Chappy Two: The Inside Look at Joshy Townsend

Joshua slumped onto the cold, tile floor of his home, the door closing silently.

He had waited forty minutes for his mother before finally acquiring a call from her on his cell phone.

"Sorry, Josh, but I won't be able to make it."

It was this statement that forced Joshua to begin the long, two- mile trek to his house… in the rain. Now, our young, teenage friend knew that his mother had to have a good reason for not picking him up, as walking a two- mile distance in the rain was never very enjoyable; especially when the rain came down exceedingly hard and powerful.

Yet, he had somehow survived, avoiding a speeding car and carrying his backpack over his head.

However, now that Joshua had gotten home, and with the surprise of no homework, he was at an absence of what exactly to do with the spare time he had been given…

Of course, he could not stay on the floor for the two- to- four hour time period until one or both of his parents returned home, so he forced himself up and advanced from that entry hallway to the kitchen, which was reached by a doorway to the left.

Upon entering, he walked over to the refrigerator and proceeded to open it… before his attention was caught by a Post- It note on the freezer compartment above the door.

Sorry about now being able to pick you up, Josh! I left you some Subway's that I bought for lunch in the fridge.

Mom

At the moment Joshua read, 'Subway's', his stomach growled. "Oh yeah… Can't believe Christian ate that…" he muttered. He then opened the refrigerator door, and sure enough, wrapped in a paper, was a sandwich. "Oh, Mom… didn't have to buy a whole sandwich for me…" he remarked while taking the sandwich out and flipping it over in his hand.

He then quickly grabbed a plate, unwrapped the sandwich, placed it on the plate, but before he could place it in the microwave, the phone rang.

Joshua sighed in irritation and reached out a foot away from the microwave to grasp the phone.

"Hello?" he spoke into the receiver once he had fixated the phone beside his right ear.

"Hello? Is this Henry Townsend?" responded a low voice.

"No, this is his son, Joshua Townsend."

"Oh… I see… Well, I have just recently obtained a job at Ashfield High School, and a colleague of mine told me that your father is selling photography…"

"It's only a few pictures; it's just a hobby…"

"I… see… Well then, could you please tell him when you see him that I would like to purchase one?"

"Okay, sure… What's your name, phone number-,"

"Sydney Wells; 795-212-100."

"Alright, thank you Mr. Wells; I'll let him call you when he has the chance."

"Thank you, Joshua…"

The man then chuckled and hung up, leaving Joshua to stare at what he had written on a small, slip of paper. "Weird number… never seen a, '100', in the end of a number… It's as if the 'zeroes' were used to fill up spaces…"

He shrugged it off though and returned to heating up his sandwich.

After about an hour or so, after devouring the sandwich and taking a shower, Joshua had nothing better to do than retreat to his room and lay down…

Joshua's room was a tad messy, like most teenagers' rooms are. He had a computer and stereo sitting on a drawer near the left wall. Pictures of him, his father and mother, his father, his mother, and all of them together were scattered about the room, on the space beside his stereo, on the small desk next to his Queen- sized bed, and on top of the shelf situated above his computer.

A comfortable, ocean- blue colored carpet was spread out across the room's floor, and a television set sat atop the drawer against the wall near his door.

Between the bed and drawer to the left was a wide, absent space. It was in this space and across the room that clothes were scattered about. Inside of the desk were a series of DVD cases, and a stack of books laid atop the desk. A lamp joined them, and a large chest held up the area between the desk and the drawer housing the computer and stereo.

Joshua knew that an assortment of different objects was within the chest, but he never bothered to open it and see what was inside. His father had moved the chest into his room, saying 'that it added a nice feel to the room'.

Actually, Joshua disliked the chest for two reasons:

(A.) It smelled, and…

(B.) It was scary.

Once he had walked into his room, he practically collapsed on the dark blue comforter of his bed. "Ugh… That guy that called said he was going to work at Ashfield High... right?" he asked himself while staring at the ceiling fan rotating quickly… ever so quickly…

He groaned and closed his eyes as he heard someone unlock and open the entrance door.