Posts Tagged ‘invy’

A piece of fan fiction by Beth M., 8th Grade


MFile:Leafy suburban street - geograph.org.uk - 170142.jpgonotonous. Tiring. Exasperating. This is how I would describe my life before everything changed. Before my life turned upside down. Before I met him.


It was a typical Monday, or at least that’s how it started. I was forced to wake up at 6:15. I dread mornings. I rolled out of bed and my feet thumped against the wooden floor. As I slowly trudged down the hallway and into the kitchen, I tried to rub the sleep out of my tired eyes. I plunked myself in front of the kitchen table and wearily glanced at my breakfast. Nothing. I sighed and realized that my parents weren’t home. They were already tackling their busy schedules and were probably driving off to work. I slowly rose out of my seat, and made my way back to my room to get ready for school.


I got my backpack and left my normal, boring blue house, made my way down the driveway and walked to school. I was walking to prison. As I walked, I kept thinking, “Is this really my life? Is every day gonna be the same?” I was an outsider, I was alone, I wanted to escape.


I arrived to school at 7:40, right on time. I tried to pass the time during each class sketching in the margins of my notebooks. I had always loved to draw, and drawing was my only escape from my formerly tedious lifestyle. I would fish out my favorite red pen from my pencil case and stare into the margins of my paper, pondering on what to create. I would start off with eyes. First making them human, but as I got more comfortable, I would make them look more imaginary and surreal. Sometimes I would draw characters from my favorite childhood shows. They had always reminded me of a simpler, happier time. My favorite things to draw in my notebook were shapes. Elaborate, never ending shapes that would curl and zigzag and straighten and then curve back again. After I created the unique shapes, I would try to find objects in them and make them stand out. Sometimes I saw puppies, or goats, sometimes I even saw faces. I would have pages and pages of doodles and sketches in my binders, sometimes I would turn to a fresh page for notes and found drawing that I did weeks ago. These always made me smile. After three solid hours of doodling to my heart’s content, I left class for lunch.


I entered the cafeteria and my nose automatically cringed at the acrid odor that filled the room. It was fish taco day, and knowing that if it was being served at my school, it would be nowhere close to edible. Have you ever seen multicolored chicken nuggets or hot dogs that bounce if you drop them? That’s what my school calls “lunch”. I’m pretty sure any kid would rather eat prison food than eat our school lunches. I sat by myself like always, and I felt like a nobody. Little did I know that that would soon change.


After lunch, we were all corralled outside. Even though I was in high school, they still insisted on having a short break outdoors. The field where we were forced to kill 15 minutes was wide open, right next to the road. Someone could literally walk away. I always wondered why nobody ever thought to leave. The teachers were never attentive, so you could just walk down the street and go into town. It would be a perfect way to get out of class. Yet, everybody just stood in their groups and passed the time with their friends. Not one person was near the edge of the street. I kept gazing past the boundary of the field, and saw the open road. It would only take me 15 minutes to get to my house, and I doubted the people would figure out where I had gone.


That’s what I decided to do. I needed a change in my life. I couldn’t just be stuck here for the rest of my life. I ventured over to the edge where the sidewalk met the grass, and I looked back. Everyone was minding their own business, and the teachers were preoccupied. I stepped over the line, and my heart started racing. I couldn’t believe what I was doing, I was always a good student, but something about me had changed. I suddenly didn’t care about any of these people. My teachers can only get me so far in life, and I was old enough to have the information and skills to be out on my own. As for the students here, well, they never cared much for me. I started to take my first steps to freedom, but suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. I froze.

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