-------------------->Modern Day, September 12th, 2019, 5:00 am
Waking up in the morning has to be some different kind of torture. I can't fall asleep because of my hyperactive brain and I can't wake up because I'm fatigued and out of shape. I hate it but whatever, I have to prepare for school so there is no use moping around.
I roll out of bed and as I slip out from under the sheets my ankle gets caught in a weird angle. Already off to a bad start, it seems. I turn on my bedroom light, illuminating what could only be called a well-off cell. A broken desk sits in a corner only about 1.5 feet off the ground and I reminisce on the times during junior high and 9th grade when I sat on the cold floor with only an old worn-out pillow keeping my rear end ever so slightly warm. Other than that there is a little broken-down white drawer with its paint falling off nearby the desk where I store my few articles of clothing.
I had managed to buy new sweat pants recently from the little money I saved up from odd jobs. But I would still need to wear my old clothes. Whatever, not like thinking about it would change anything. Other than these things, I have my little double bed that creaks annoyingly at the slightest movement around it and finally a broken half-body mirror at the foot of the bed.
I walk out of the room and turn down the hallway to go towards the kitchen. On my way there, I start laughing remembering why the opening ceremony for school was postponed for 3 days. Apparently, a freshman had wanted to look cool in a tech-wear vest but an old English teacher thought he was wearing a vest strapped with bombs. The fact he also had a black bottle strapped to his chest didn't help him either.
He was pinned down by the 3 security guards that acted fast enough and in the midst of the blaring alarm and screaming kids we were herded out of the building. About an hour later we were sent home and told to check our emails for any further announcements. Yesterday, we got an email that it was a false alarm and today, Thursday, we are supposed to come back to school and act as if nothing happened.
I'm not really optimistic about my new school and 10th grade. After all, I'm not too suited for crowds. It seems my imposing height coupled with my dark skin and chubby figure makes people uncomfortable. There is also my name…I'm about 80% sure my parents hated me. After all, who names their child 'Nobu'?And coupled with my last name 'Abara' I was the subject of all the African jokes through the entirety of junior high and 9th grade in my old school. Well, I would rather people call me 'Truth' since that is what my name directly translates to in English.
Ah! I didn't realize but in the midst of my monologue, I had already finished my PB &j sandwich. Now all that's left is to shower and put on my clothes. Well, let's go then.
----------->50 minutes later
"Alright, Auntie, I'm Leaving!", I yell as I walk out the door.
"Shut up and go, boy, why the hell is you shouting at 6:30 in the morning!?", she hollers with a shrill and annoying voice through the upstairs window.
"You're yelling too...", I mutter under my breath.
"Get your *ss to school and stop talking back!"
How the hell did she hear me? Whatever, man.