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Morning Rituals
“Benjammin.”
“Ben.”
“Benjammin, wake up!”
“Ugh.” I grunted out, waiting for the piercing bleached light to break the remnants of what had been my last few seconds of sleep. I heard as my mom took rushing steps across the hard wood floors of my new room, and almost boiled over in anger as she touched me.
My eyes flew open, almost indignant, my face becoming red with rage.
“You start your new school in twenty minutes.” She smiled lightly as she turned and left the room.
I looked in the direction of my new phone, seeing had no new texts this morning. As I let out a depressed sigh, I laid back down in the same contorted form, closing my eyes for just a few more seconds of sweet sleepy paradise, only to be woken up by a blow to the stomach via a shoe thrown by my mom.
“Now,” she threatened.
With a wordless mind and apathetic way, I slowly made my way over to my open closet, removing the uniform that I would be wearing for the day.
Purple shirts and khaki pants, however so original, I thought to myself.
Disdainfully, I made my way down the dimly lit hall filled with boxes we had yet to unpack, uniform in hand, to the only bathroom in the house. You’d think after moving fifteen times we would make a note to get a house with more than one bathroom for three people to share, but no. Seeing that the door was closed I knocked harshly, annoyed that my sister hadn’t finished by now.
“Hurry up already. You’ve been in there forever,” I lied.
“Like you would know, you just woke up,” my younger sister Samantha spewed forth.
As I clenched my teeth I thought for a second, and then returned fire with, “I would know, it takes time to hide the facial features of a Neanderthal.”
I laughed lightly as I heard her speak under her breath in my direction, only to be followed by the swinging open of the door before me.
“Happy now?” Sam remarked sarcastically.
“Yes.”
I watched her storm off towards her room in a quite child like manner before I stepped inside the bathroom to get ready for school, softly placing my clothes on the dryer right beside the doorway before I closed the door.
I let out a sigh, grasping the cold metal of the cold water knob on the sink faucet. As I turned it the soft rhythmic sound of pouring water filled the air, mellowing out the sound of those cursed songbirds outside the bathroom window. I leaned over the sink, cupping my hands to throw some of the icy water on my face. I felt for a towel, while small streams of water ran down the bulk of my cheeks and forehead, past my nose and over my chin back into the pearly basin. I wiped hard and thoroughly, cleansing my face of the grossness that seems to always cover it in the morning.
“Ten minutes.” I heard my mom cry through the bathroom door from the kitchen.
“Okay,” I yelled back, picking up my pace a tad.
As I got my last leg through the khaki pants I reached for my black leather belt and looped in through all of the hoops surrounding my waist. Then forcing my feet into the sad excuse for tennis shoes, I opened the bathroom door, and made my way back to my room. There I picked up my backpack, and placed my black cotton wallet in the back pocket of my pants, and made my way towards the living room.
“I won’t be here when you get home, Ben. I’ll be back around seven. Oh and be sure to do the dishes before I get home.”
I nodded in her direction as I grasped the front door handle, and made a mental note of everything.
“Have a good first day of school, and would you please be nice to your sister.”
“Fine,” I agreed halfheartedly. “I’ll see you later Mom.” I said as I twisted the door open.
“Bye.”
I hate school. I mean seriously, who invented it. Well whoever did should be dragged into the street and shot, and then shot again.
I laughed to myself as I walked down the street that our house was on, and on to street number two. I noticed the soft brown color of the falling leaves that dotted the street. They were dying, but still beautiful. Their brown embraced the being of the rocky surface of the black top road, they gave the road meaning.
To the left a dog barked wildly on the inside of a broken down white trailer. Its muted cries fell on deaf ears as I continued to walk past it towards St.Martinville Senior High School, home of the tigers.
“Oh joy, “I spoke aloud as the sight of a bustling school entered my gaze.
“This is not going to be a good day.”
“Ben.”
“Benjammin, wake up!”
“Ugh.” I grunted out, waiting for the piercing bleached light to break the remnants of what had been my last few seconds of sleep. I heard as my mom took rushing steps across the hard wood floors of my new room, and almost boiled over in anger as she touched me.
My eyes flew open, almost indignant, my face becoming red with rage.
“You start your new school in twenty minutes.” She smiled lightly as she turned and left the room.
I looked in the direction of my new phone, seeing had no new texts this morning. As I let out a depressed sigh, I laid back down in the same contorted form, closing my eyes for just a few more seconds of sweet sleepy paradise, only to be woken up by a blow to the stomach via a shoe thrown by my mom.
“Now,” she threatened.
With a wordless mind and apathetic way, I slowly made my way over to my open closet, removing the uniform that I would be wearing for the day.
Purple shirts and khaki pants, however so original, I thought to myself.
Disdainfully, I made my way down the dimly lit hall filled with boxes we had yet to unpack, uniform in hand, to the only bathroom in the house. You’d think after moving fifteen times we would make a note to get a house with more than one bathroom for three people to share, but no. Seeing that the door was closed I knocked harshly, annoyed that my sister hadn’t finished by now.
“Hurry up already. You’ve been in there forever,” I lied.
“Like you would know, you just woke up,” my younger sister Samantha spewed forth.
As I clenched my teeth I thought for a second, and then returned fire with, “I would know, it takes time to hide the facial features of a Neanderthal.”
I laughed lightly as I heard her speak under her breath in my direction, only to be followed by the swinging open of the door before me.
“Happy now?” Sam remarked sarcastically.
“Yes.”
I watched her storm off towards her room in a quite child like manner before I stepped inside the bathroom to get ready for school, softly placing my clothes on the dryer right beside the doorway before I closed the door.
I let out a sigh, grasping the cold metal of the cold water knob on the sink faucet. As I turned it the soft rhythmic sound of pouring water filled the air, mellowing out the sound of those cursed songbirds outside the bathroom window. I leaned over the sink, cupping my hands to throw some of the icy water on my face. I felt for a towel, while small streams of water ran down the bulk of my cheeks and forehead, past my nose and over my chin back into the pearly basin. I wiped hard and thoroughly, cleansing my face of the grossness that seems to always cover it in the morning.
“Ten minutes.” I heard my mom cry through the bathroom door from the kitchen.
“Okay,” I yelled back, picking up my pace a tad.
As I got my last leg through the khaki pants I reached for my black leather belt and looped in through all of the hoops surrounding my waist. Then forcing my feet into the sad excuse for tennis shoes, I opened the bathroom door, and made my way back to my room. There I picked up my backpack, and placed my black cotton wallet in the back pocket of my pants, and made my way towards the living room.
“I won’t be here when you get home, Ben. I’ll be back around seven. Oh and be sure to do the dishes before I get home.”
I nodded in her direction as I grasped the front door handle, and made a mental note of everything.
“Have a good first day of school, and would you please be nice to your sister.”
“Fine,” I agreed halfheartedly. “I’ll see you later Mom.” I said as I twisted the door open.
“Bye.”
I hate school. I mean seriously, who invented it. Well whoever did should be dragged into the street and shot, and then shot again.
I laughed to myself as I walked down the street that our house was on, and on to street number two. I noticed the soft brown color of the falling leaves that dotted the street. They were dying, but still beautiful. Their brown embraced the being of the rocky surface of the black top road, they gave the road meaning.
To the left a dog barked wildly on the inside of a broken down white trailer. Its muted cries fell on deaf ears as I continued to walk past it towards St.Martinville Senior High School, home of the tigers.
“Oh joy, “I spoke aloud as the sight of a bustling school entered my gaze.
“This is not going to be a good day.”