I swung open the door and what I saw in there, you wouldn’t believe. There were thousands of tiny dried up souls. I quickly shut the door and agreed that it was definitely the door on the right. I dashed across the hall to what hopefully was the bathroom this time. As I entered the bathroom, I sat down to help myself calm down on what I had just saw.
Without a doubt in my mind, I turned right. I stared down at the glimmering waxed floor as I walked up to the first door; it was the bathroom. “Damn it,” I said in a hushed tone to myself, “I’m so stupid. I guess going right wasn’t the right way to go.” This little joke transported me from the depressing hospital to a trip to town I had taken a few years back. The scent
Thanksgiving break has just ended, and now I’m back at school, that means I have to see Mrs. Gulon’s scary face again, and go to her classes, which are pure torture. Everyone thinks she’s an evil witch and I do too, her laugh sounds like an evil cackle, she has really dry lips, and yellow teeth, she has a big scar under her eye, and a big wart on her chin. Her classroom has a cellar in the corner that she locks kids in that angers her, I heard that sometimes she leave kids in there all day. Soon enough primetime has ended and I’m forced to go to Mrs.Gulon’s class. While I’m walking there I pray to God hoping she won’t kill me, or there’s a substitute today.
One is just random instruments grouped together taking up the front area of the classroom. They serve no immediate purpose because no students use these instruments. They just sit in the front of the class taking up the entire area. The next problematic area is the music storage area in the far right corner of the classroom. There are several filing cabinets with music in them with no apparent organizational scheme.
Carrying on, I need a cool glass of water. I slowly walked out of my tiny bedroom, it felt amazing to get a little bit of fresh air. I am just going to say it is very bothersome staying in a tiny room while coughing up hairballs, or what it felt like. I took one turn out of my doorway and I was about to go down the hallway to the kitchen when my parents’ bickering intrigued me. “Why would you want to do this?” Asked Mum.
The only struggle was showering, my incision was to new to be wet, without fear of infection;therefore I had to sit in my shower with chair covering my leg with a 12 gallon trash bag securely fastened around my leg propped up to decrease swelling. Showers became a chore, instead of a means of proper hygiene. Now at fourteen I was wobbling around as if I were a toddler learning to walk for the first time, not sure of my footing, having to hold on to furniture for balance, as well as reassurance. I began to attend physical therapy:basic actions were now a challenge. Stepping up more than five stair felt like a marathon leaving me dripping with sweat followed by the stiffness from to much exertion.
I hoped that I wouldn’t receive an insipid teacher that would bore me to sleep. I was then rushed by my mother to go get ready. Giving myself a few moments to think about how my first day would go, I then walked towards my room. I couldn’t decide what to wear. Throwing clothes out the closet onto the floor, I was on mission impossible to decide what school attire was
A few hours later, it was bed time and I ran into another tantrum with her again. This time she would not agree with taking a bath. Teary eyed and red faced, Janae would not get in the bathtub; not even after I put some rubber ducks to keep her company. So trying my best to not lose my control/temper, I put her in a towel and talk calmly with her. Then after explaining to her that pretty little girls always take showers and never want to be stinky.
Sun beaming through the window hitting me right in the face, I was tired of just lying in bed this is not what I called fun. It was the last weekend of a long break and I was so upset with myself for letting it all go to waste. I was going to make sure this weekend was the best. Thinking of all the things we could possibly do as a family, I quickly remember that was all had season passes to Six Flags, which were also going to waste. I started to convince my parents that we could take a trip to Saint Louis.
As all five members of my family including me ignore my mom and the disturbing sound of the phones, pretending to be deaf, I get frustrated. This is my turn to pass the ball to someone else as playing deaf is not working anymore. I tiptoe to bathroom and quietly lock the door behind me, then I shout: “Sara(younger sister) answer the damn phone!! I’m in the bathroom! Are you fucking dumb?”.
I quickly dressed into a blue gown, and hoped that it didn’t already start. Quickly braiding my hair while slipping on my shoes, I ran out the door. The hallways were empty. At this point I was nervous. The empty halls suggested that everyone had already gone to the ceremony.