Please, Wake Up.

Chapter 1: Please, Wake Up.

“the world was confused, and not the world really, just the people in it.” - SLC Punk

music: various songs from my custom album, “assorted techno.”

I wake up, my eyes slowly sliding open to adjust to the blinding light. Silence resinates through the house, and I let out a soft sigh knowing that my Mom is gone. Her work schedule is always constantly changing, so I usually don’t have to deal with her a lot during the day. I remember the night I asked my Mom why she felt the need to work, since it only takes time away she could be using to drink. She shouted in a slurred voice that she needed money for booze, and she needed to pay rent so she had a place to live. I’ve never seen someone so focused on drinking, that they really only need the bare basics. In the back of my mind I knew she didn’t mention financing my existence, because I have a job.

The memory slips away, I get out of bed, and head towards the bathroom in a sleepy daze. I walk in and immediately turn on the shower to get it hot. I sit on the toilet, not feeling too inclined to stand up. I rub my face, trying to wake up. I shake my head and realize I’ve been sitting here for a few minutes and steam is starting to rise out of the shower. I get undressed, and hop into the hot stream. I can’t be sure why, but hot showers always wake me up, I’m glad I’m that way because it makes mornings a little bit easier. After the last of the soap and shampoo washes away, I turn the water off. I grab the towel slung over the curtain rod, and dry myself before getting out. I wrap the towel around my waist and head back into my room. I get dressed, grab my book bag, and rush out the front door.

I always walk to school, it’s not that far, which makes things a little easier because it’s not like I have the option to ask my Mom for a ride. The walk is short, and most of the time, unusually peaceful. During early spring I always enjoy the moderate and dry weather, it was a welcome change from the harsh winter. School comes into my view, my small high school, which I enjoy going to about as much as I enjoy going home. As I get closer to the school, I turn my head and see two idiots fighting each other. I’m always glad I chose to live the way I do, and not live like them. Constantly fighting, hating themselves, and not really caring what happens to them. I guess someone who gets pretty good grades wouldn’t want to live like them, then again I don’t think I could’ve ever chosen to live like that. I’m surprised at how much they make me appreciate what I have, even though it is only a little.

I think more and more throughout the day, about leaving this place. I always toy around with the idea in my head, but I’ve never been terribly serious about doing it. ‘I’ve got more talent than anyone else here, why not leave?’ This town is, boring, bland, and...just completely hopeless. This town is either full of people who, in their older age, are already comfortable with their life, or students who are completely oblivious to the fact they’re going absolutely nowhere. You still have, maybe, the handful of kids like me who actually care about actually furthering themselves. ‘Maybe if I try, I can be bigger than this place, much bigger.’ These thoughts carry me through the first half of the day, and I shake out of it a little when I go to lunch. Our cafeteria is small, and pretty much everyone is divided into little cliques so each group has their own table. This school isn’t even big enough for cliques, but I guess everyone has to feel cool somehow. I go through the lunch line to grab a pop and a slice of pizza. I sit down at one of the two empty tables and eat in silence, taking in the various cliques. The preppy kids are most likely talking about this Fridays football game. The gothic kids are quiet, and one or two of them glance back at me. I could probably fit in with them, but I’d rather be friendless then fit in somewhere that I really don’t belong. The few nerds are chatting it up, and I decide to eat rather than stare at the rest of the stereotypical people in the room. After lunch, I just continue to plot and work. This carries on until the last period of the day which is English. “Today is Friday, that means it’s journal day!” My teacher, Mr. Carlton announces enthusiastically. A chorus of groans, and shouts of complaints ring out, covering the air with unnecessary noise. “Come on, it’s not going to kill you.”  He points to the board, and in perfect script it says, “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go and why?” All my thoughts sort of fall together, and I begin furiously scribbling in my notebook, blocking out all of the background noise. I finished before everyone else, like always, pretty much regardless of what class I’m in. Friday journals are always opinions or hypothetical questions so it’s very easy, but most of the class never feels inclined to do it. I love it, it give me plenty of time to do whatever, plus it’s something easy to do in the last period of the day on Friday. After finishing, I get up and hand it to Mr. Carlton at his desk. He takes it with a smile, since he usually enjoys my take on things. I decide to read till the class is over. As I’m gathering my stuff, Mr. Carlton asks me to come back to his desk.

“So I see you decide to choose Las Vegas, but it doesn’t seem that you’ve listed any reason in particular, you just wrote about the city itself” He says.

“Well I really want to go there to see if I could maybe hit it off big playing piano. I mean you can pretty much do anything in Vegas, right?” I answer. 

“Within reason of course,” he chuckles. He slowly grows silent, studies me, and after a few silent moments he smirks and finally says, “Okay, I just wanted to see what you thought about it, have a nice weekend.” I nod, and quickly shuffled out of the room. Once I get outside of school, I realize that it’s kind of weird he took extra interest in why I wanted to leave. He doesn’t know anything about me, besides my writing. So what would he be asking me for? I clear the crazy scenarios out of my head, knowing it was really only genuine curiosity.

After school, and on the weekend, I always have to work. This is good, because I need money for some food, and other expenses. There is food at the house most of the time, only because my Mom knew she can't live on booze. So I have a couple thousand saved up in the bank, my mini fortune. I work at a Dairy Queen part-time, enough to make a decent amount, even in this town. I don't really dislike work, I mean, it's work! It's just nothing exciting ever really happens, except that one time Eric slipped on that wet spot, fell forward, and smashed his head into the ice cream machine. He had a concussion, and went to the hospital. After he left, everyone busted out laugh, and it was okay because later that night we found out he was going to be fine.  Work is usually just standing around, casually conversing with the other people at work, until the dinner rush. Usually after that, I stand around even more until I’m allowed to leave. Of course, everything proceeds as usual.

Not feeling up to spending my whole night in the park like is custom, I head home deciding to take my chances. I take my normal route home. As I exit Dairy Queen, I look up and notice that the sun has nearly disappeared. It always looks like an exquisite painting in the sky. All the reds, purples, oranges, and other colors mixing together to form a picturesque sight. I stare at it for a few moments thinking, ‘Sunsets are probably way better, somewhere else.’ I start towards my house, which is a little farther from D.Q. than it is school. I freeze when I find out the door is unlocked. I take in a breath before opening the door. The sound of the TV makes it apparent that my Mom is home. I sigh quietly in relief when I realize that she just got home, so I ask, “How was work?” She grunts in response, and waves me away. I go to the fridge, grab something to drink, and retreat to my room, locking the door behind me. I decide to finish the few homework assignments that I have. Afterwards, I sprawl out on my bed and start thinking again. A normal person would think I spend way too much of my time thinking, but it’s all I really do anymore. I close my eyes and drift off, so my thoughts in time become my reality. Deep down, I know that I’m going to have to leave this place...immediately. The draw back to that is that I won’t be able to finish the other year of high school I have left and get my diploma. Still though, what if I never do anything here? What if I never take the chance? I may not be a graduate, but if I leave I’ll have infinitely more chances somewhere else than I’ll ever have here. I close my eyes and clear everything out of my head, except one thought. My conclusion: I have to get out of this place.

Author's Note

There was a lot more to fix/ a lot more thing I wasn’t comfortable with in this chapter. Just thought I’d say that none of these chapters will be properly edited, unlike the original version. I’m not like a grammar master or anything, I just give it a few look overs before posting it. So if there’s little things just try to ignore them.