Crazy

I’m at home, laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. I just woke up. I don’t want to go to school today.
School has always been bad for me. We don’t mix very well…school and I. I strongly dislike having to live by rules, and school is filled with rules. I want to do what I want to do, when I want to do it. The only problem is I can’t. I let too many people get in my way.
“TIME TO GET READY!” I heard my mother calling me.
“I’m sick,” I reply to her.
She comes upstairs to take my temperature. It’s only ninety five degrees. It’s too normal. She knows I’m not sick.
“Time to get ready,” she says again.
I reluctantly get dressed after she walks out of my room. I put on a black dress with white polka dots, fish nets, and pink leopard print creepers. I want to look as different as possible. Okay, maybe not as weird as Lady Gaga, but pretty weird compared to all the preppy people at my school.
I live in Connecticut. That should explain it…

I’ve just arrived at school. I’m walking through the halls, getting closer and closer to my locker which is right next to my homeroom.
When I arrive there, I put my zebra print bag in there, and grab the stuff from it that I really need.
Homeroom is boring. I just sit there, listening to my iPod, and drawing pictures of skulls and roses, and other random shit. None of the people in there interest me. They’re all pretty boring, if you ask me.

It’s lunch time: fun! Well, for most people it actually is fun. But for me, it’s just as boring as the actual school part of school. I have no friends to sit with… not that I’d have any more fun if I did.
I go outside and smoke a cigarette.
“No smoking on school grounds,” Josh Brown says when he’s coming out to smoke a cigarette himself.
He’s kidding.
If I haven’t mentioned it before, I’m socially awkward. I have a disorder called Aspergers which is a mild form of autism…blah, blah, blah. I’m especially awkward around cute boys like Josh…
Josh is different. He’s not as preppy as the other kids around here. He’s not my definition of perfect by any means, but he’s a lot better than the other people that I know. When they wear their Abercrombie, he wears Hot Topic. When they listen to their Taylor Swift, he listens to Fall Out Boy. Emo is bullshit, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a little different compared to the only other scene at my school. Plus, I see right through his emo persona, that he hasn’t yet discovered his calling as an amazing punk boy.
He has black skater boy-ish hair, and big brown beautiful eyes.
“So, what’s up?” he asks me.
“Um…smoking a cig…” I say.
“Well, thank you captain obvious.”
I feel dumb. Why’d I say that? Then, I realize he’s the dumb one. Who still says shit like “thank you captain obvious”? That’s like a saying for first graders.
I still try to be nice though. After all, even though I hate almost everyone in my school, I have to admit, I do want a social life. At least a little bit of one.
We talk for a while, just about random things. It turns out to be a pretty long time, actually. We talk for so long that we don’t hear the bell ring.
And then, a teacher walks outside.
“Children, it’s time to come inside,” Mrs. Greyhound says in her snotty little voice, before starting to sniff the air around us. “Wait, have you two been smoking?”
Mrs. Greyhound is an old fat lady, with grayish brown hair. She wears preppy little clothes from all the stores geared for teenagers. She can’t fit in them at all…I’m not a size-ist, but I’m just saying. It looks pretty gross.
“First of all,” I begin, speaking. “I’m not a child. I’m almost eighteen years old. Second of all, once I’m eighteen, I should be able to smoke when I want and where I want.”
Once I say that, I realize how stupid it sounds.
“Well, you’re not eighteen yet, are you? Go to the office.”
Josh just sits there, smiling as I start reluctantly walking away.
“You too, Joshua.”
I don’t want to go to the office. I don’t want to be in school. I keep doing things I don’t want to do. I keep living by other people’s rules. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of it all. I’m sick of being controlled. I really should be able to change it all, but I feel too defenseless. Too powerless. People shouldn’t be able to control one another. I mean, we’re all human beings – what makes one person more powerful than another? It’s all stupid, really.
I go anyway though.
The principal, Mr. Yorke yells at me. He yells at me to start being social and to stop smoking.
He suspends me.
I honestly don’t mind being suspended, to be honest. It’s not that big of a deal. If you think about it, it’s pretty sweet. You do something wrong, and you get to miss school for a day. I don’t know how anyone could see something bad about that.

I do nothing. I do nothing at all during the days I am suspended. I don’t really mind it that much though. I mean, yes, it is boring, but it’s also relaxing, not doing anything. I have to admit though, even though it’s good to relax sometimes, I’d rather have fun…
I listen to the sounds of my parents’ voices, throughout my whole little “vacation” – I mean, suspension. They’re yelling.
“Katelyn Anne Marcos,” my mother screams at me. “DO NOT SMOKE EVER AGAIN!”
Doesn’t she realize that once you start, you can’t stop? I don’t want to sound like I’m addicted, but I guess it’s true.
“Okay, mother,” I say rolling my eyes.
Then she hits me across the face. It hurts but it’s nothing I’m not used to.
“GO TO YOUR ROOM!”
I roll my eyes again. What is so bad about my room anyway? It has lots of books, a stereo, a tv, everything. What’s so bad about that? Honestly?
I sit in my room reading “1984” by George Orwell…until I fall asleep.