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The morning sun shone down on my face, spurring me awake. I jerked myself fully concious as I remembered the night before, and replayed the dream in my head. It was the fourth night in a row that I'd had the ssame dream, and it was starting to scare me. People don't just have the same dream over and over purely by coincidence. I wasn't even that supersticious anymore, but I knew it had to mean something.
I din't have time to ponder about it, because when I glanced over at my clock, it said 7:30. "Crap!" I yelled and flung myself out of bed. The bus would be here in fifteen minutes, and I had already missed it twice this week. On top of that, bith my parents were working today, so I would have no other way of getting to school.
I quickly pulled on the first shirt and pair of jeans I could find, put my long, dark brown hair in a messy bun, and ran downstairs to gag down a piece of toast. I ran back upstairs to brush my teeth and grab a pack of gum, then practically launched myself back down, snatched my backpack,and headed out the door.
The bus was just pulling around the corner when I got to the stop, and screeched to a halt in front of me. The door slid open, and I climbed in, taking my usual seat near the front, away from the loud and obnoxious kids in back.
I gazed out the window dreamily, wishing I was anywhere but here. The ride went fairly quickly, until the last stop. The bus stopped and the door hissed open. A group of designer- brand jocks paraded in, laughing and sneering as they took their seats. I held my breath as they climbed aboard, just waiting for a snide comment. Just as I thought I was home- free, I felt someone sit next to me. I knew at once who it was.
"Hey Chris," said a male voice. I rolled my eyes, annoyed beyond words. "Yes, Austen?" I asked, trying to sound halfway pleasant. Austen Huntley had been my unofficial, mockingly friendly stalker since third grade. He was muscular, with reddish- brown hair, had a different girlfriend every week, and made a point of pounding my self- esteem into the ground.
"You like Marilyn Manson?" he asked, gesturing toward my shirt. I had no idea what he was talking about until I glanced down and saw, to my horror, that I was wearing my old Manson shirt. I had had it forever, and didn't even know when or where I got it. My cheeks flushed bright red. How could I not have noticed before? Duh! I silently cursed myself for getting out of bed.
Austen turned around, and was about to yell something to his buddies, but before he could get a word out, I tackled him and clapped my hand over his mouth. Unfortunately, I slammed into him harder than I meant to, and ended up knocking him into the seat across from us, with me landing on top of him.
His suprised expression quickly turned into a sly smirk as I removed my hand from his mouth. Everyone fell quiet and my face turned an even deeper red. I tried to get up, but he caught me. "Aw, Chris, I didn't know you liked me that much," he said mockingly. A roar of laughter errupted from the rest of the bus's occupants.
My embarassment quickly turned to anger as my temper flared.I wrenched myself out of his grip and pulled him up by his shirt collar. "You b*****d!" I hissed. "You better get away from me before I set your horny a** on fire!"
Everyone suddenly quieted down and Austen's face went pale. He knew from past experiences that I wasn't kidding. I shoved him away and he scooted into another seat silently. I resumed my position by the window after giving him an evil look, and the screeching laughter was now a low drone.
 Doll With A Knife · Thu Apr 05, 2007 @ 08:16pm · 0 Comments |
