I wake up late, to find that my apartment in a disastrous mess. Like it always is. So I decide to make a quick pan of oatmeal and spend the day cleaning it out. I run around my apartment until I’ve gathered up most of my clothes. I put them in assorted piles all around the living room; planning on taking them to the laundromat after work Monday. I might even get around to folding them and hanging them up. I toss the last hoodie onto the pile of blue clothes, and sink onto the living room couch.
As I’m getting ready to turn on the Good Morning Show, my cat, Snickers, hops onto the couch beside me and I scratch his back. He’s hungry, I guess. Whenever he gets hungry, he gets in my face, like ...view middle of the document...
I stack them up into a pile of five or six and stare at them for a while. I stand up and gather more magazines that have been deposited in various places in my room. I’ve got a pretty big stack by the time I finish, and I set them on the shelf under my nightstand.
Once the magazines have been subtracted from my mess, I move on to more clothes. I toss dirty socks and tops into the piles in the living room. I try to find the mate of one of my Chuck Taylors, rummaging through the mounds. Holding my right shoe in one hand, I throw my phone charger onto my bed with the other. Like stepping stones, there are bare spots about my floor; so I hop to a corner of my room, where I finally find the mate.
I bend down to pick it up, but I retract my hand with a gasp. Sitting beside my left Chuck Taylor is a wrinkled photograph from my childhood. I sink onto the ground and pick it up. It’s a picture of my family from when I was about ten. And innocent. As I set my Chucks aside, my eyes begin to get hot as I remember what’s happened to me.
It was December. I was in the fourth grade and walking home from school one day. It had snowed a few days before, so everything was still icy. I watched the drab cars driving past me, the Fed-Ex trucks and Wal-Mart semis blending in with the traffic. I looked at the houses and businesses as I walked by them. Everything was gray and bleak; and I hated it.
I longed for the easy days of summer: no school; only days of sunshine and play. I hated living in town- especially during the winter. I always had to walk home, rain or shine. My parents decided we didn’t need to pay money for the bus when I could just as easily walk there. And save money. My frugal parents irritated me- mostly because of their reasonings. But also because they worked late and didn’t get home until five. And dinner usually consisted of oven-baked pizza or Ramen Noodles. Which I hated.
I sighed, thinking about the homework I had for the night; especially dreading the math. I’d have to ask Zach, my older brother on perimeters of circles. Zach was a genius.
I guess I was thinking about his soccer game this...