Saturday, December 3, 2011

52 Week Short Story Writing Challenge - #4

     I'm currently feeling sad because I miss all of my friends at my old school now that I'm at a different school, the new girl once again. This is just something I ended up writing this morning when I woke up from a dream about being with my friends and realizing I won't be going to that school again. P.S. today officially marks a month of writing short stories for my challenge!

Short Story #4: Long Enough
     I woke from sleep with a start, yelling out and almost falling off the bed. Only a tangle of sheets kept me from hitting the ground, so tightly tucked in I was sure the world could fall apart and they’d still hold together. Grabbing the bed I hoisted myself back up into a sitting position, wiping my hands over my sweaty face. I looked at the clock on the bedside; 4:35a.m.
I kicked back the covers and got up ready for school, taking a longer than usual shower that hit me like a jet stream. It soothed the soreness in my muscles until my mother knocked on the door.
You’re going to run out the hot water!” she yelled through the door. I sighed and shut off the water, drying off and stepping into my clothes for the day. I didn’t want to go to school today, or any day for that matter. After breakfast and completely getting ready I stepped out the front door and waited for the bus. I didn’t like the trip to school since it was so long; one of the downfalls of going to an expensive school was I had to travel for hours on the road each week.
Yawning, I watched as the bus rounded the corner and came to a stop a few metres from me.
Good morning,” the driver said. He was pretty cool, I had to admit and I felt guilty for not wanting to travel because of it. The second bus driver who took over the drive back smiled and I returned it easily.
Good morning,” I said, the way I always did every morning at 7:30. I hobbled up the length of the bus as he started driving again and half-fell into a seat near the back. Dropping my bag on the seat closest to the aisle I shuffled into the one closest the window, grabbed my iPod from my pocket and started listening to some new songs I’d got off iTunes. In an hour we’d be at school and I would have to put it down out of sight of the teachers, strict as they were. Fiddling in my pocket I retrieved a small pink pouch and swapped my small diamanté nose stud for a clear plastic one.
I sighed and looked at my feet; wrong shoes would result in detention but hadn’t had time to get a note off my mother. Taking my mind off them I shuffled in my bag and retrieved my sketchbook, flipping through to one of the only spare pages I hadn’t drawn on and grabbed a picture of my friends from the back. They all smiled up at me from the photo, faces of the people who had come to accept me over the past three years.
I started sketching them, capturing their smiling faces with the tip of my pencil and shading them in. I had a sinking feeling deep inside, knowing there was something around the corner and I’d probably never see a lot of them again. I didn’t know why I felt that way; today was just a normal day.
With my music going and the sketchbook in my hand I almost missed my phone in my pocket, vibrating silently as someone texted me. Pausing from my drawing I retrieved it from my pocket and opened the message; it was from my mother.
You’re changing schools. Get ready to get off the bus.
As though on cue she drove past, calling the bus driver as she went. I watched as they spoke to the phone on a small stand and went to pull off the road. Suddenly the bus swerved and I saw as a truck came veering out of a driveway, heading straight for us. Bracing myself I felt the white pain and the tears of having to leave my friends, my family. It hurt and –
I woke. The reality hadn’t really occurred like that, minus the bus being hit and my mother driving after the bus but it still hurt. It hurt because I knew that I had changed schools and I now probably wouldn’t see half of my friends ever again.
Story of my life.

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