Cat Got Your Tongue?

The sound of the school bell was reliving. A good number of the other kids were already out of the room and gossiping with their friends, before I could gather up all my books. I sighed and stacked up the notebook, textbook, and binder then followed the last few remaining students out of the classroom.

It was days like today that made me thankful that my locker was just outside of the biology classroom. I could get to my locker, pack up my things, and get out to my car before anyone could approach me and try to strike up a conversation. Just to get a few laughs out of it.

I spotted my car right when I exited the school, and made a bee line for it. As if it was planned, a vast group of jocks and cheerleaders stopped right in front of my car. I rolled my eyes and started to make my way through the crowd.

They didn’t try to stop me, or talk to me, as I unlocked the doors and climbed into my car. Not knowing how else to get them to move, I pressed the horn button on my steering wheel. Only the ones that were actually leaning on the car, jumped and stared at me.

While they were busy discussing with their friends about what just happened, I threw the car into reverse and backed out of my parking spot. Most of the students that drove themselves to school were already driving behind me, therefore leaving only one or two cars in front of me. But, they were driving and an incredibility slow rate and I was in a hurry to get home, do my homework, eat dinner, then go to bed. I was beyond tired. At least today was Friday.

I followed closely behind the car in from of me until we reached the exit from the parking lot, where they went right, and I went left.

My house was only a few streets down from the school. Three to be exact, but my aunt and uncle felt it was safer for me to drive instead of walk home.

The yellow light, at the end of the road, quickly turned red and I slowed down into a stop. It would only take me minutes to get home from here. I waited until the light turned green, and hit the gas pedal once it did. After passing the two streets before my own, I made the right turn onto my street and slowed down as I saw my house.

I reached it and hit the garage door opener button that was latched onto my visor. The door was open enough for me to pull in by the time that I turned into the driveway.

After getting my backpack from the seat next to me I opened the door and hit the lock button on my key chain. The door that led from the garage into the house was already unlocked, so I threw my unneeded keys into my purse, where they would stay until they were needed again.

My Uncle Tony was sitting on the couch in the living room, flipping through the channels from what I could tell. “Your aunts in ‘er office!” he yelled to me.

I walked out of the room and up the stairs to my room, to get my things ready before going to see my Aunt Molly.

My room was how I left it, the bed made, laptop open, and the desk chair in the middle of the room. The white curtains that covered the windows were pulled back and the corner of the deep purple rug was folded over. After fixing it with my foot, I walked out of my room and down the hallway to my aunt’s office.

Peeking into her room I saw that she was typing away on her computer. Her attention seemed focused on that so I knocked lightly on the door frame and she spun around in her chair instantly.

“’ey, sweetie. Did yeh ‘ave a nice day at school?” she asked a smile vibrant on her face.

With my head leaning against the frame on the door, I nodded and smiled back at her. “Well, that’s very nice to ‘ear. Do you ‘ave any plans tonight, or are you just goin’ to do your homework?”

I held up two fingers, signaling that I was doing that second one. She smiled once more and turned her chair around again, and continued working on whatever she was working on. Rolling my eyes I left the room. She was upset that I didn’t have friends, therefore no plans on a Friday night.

It wouldn’t help if I had friends anyway. I think that she thinks that if I had someone more my age to talk to about things, that I might start talking again. But it’s going to take a hell of a lot more than that to make me forget the night my parents died.