Our So-Called Lives

The saying goes, same shit, different day, but the thing is that it's not a different day; the days merge together where you don't know what the hell is going on. That's what my life was like; it was monotony. I repeated the same activities over and over again until they became programmed into my system to the point where I was no longer human.

Though I was content with my life; for others it would drive them insane performing the redundant acts like clockwork. I didn't care if nothing special came out of my life, I wasn't like those characters you read about where they constantly thrive for something other than their provincial lives; I wasn't waiting for something magical and out of the ordinary to shake my life.

I was happy.

Excuse me, let me rephrase myself, I was happy until one evening my monotonous life was turned upside down. A friend of a friend had the bright idea to take a joy ride with his step-father's car. The idiotic friend, I never learned his name, had also stolen said step-father's booze and was shitfaced while driving 80 miles an hour down a residential area. Everyone could see where this was heading. The cops were called, the idiot got arrested, and I was taken to the station for being associated with a car full of drunk morons.

I always hated the term, guilty by association. I hope the person who came up with that dies in a fire.

My parents weren't too happy when they received a call from the police station to come and pick-up their daughter; nope, they weren't happy at all. Apparently my parents had been conspiring against me for the past two years, my mother had been wanting to send me to her parent's to live with; my conservative, military, Full Metal Jacket, grandfather.

The happiest place on Earth, eat that Disney.

I was told my cousin, Jade, had been sent there as well so I would have some company and wouldn't be entirely lonely. Like I gave two shits about that, I was more concerned with my simple life being torn out from under me because my friend had to drag me out of my house for a pointless joy ride.

So this where I am now, in Huntington Beach, with my dictator grandfather.

My cousin and I are standing on the corner of the street waiting for the bus to take us to our new school. Of course the driver-man is moving so slow and it seems that we will never make it there on time for the first day. Jade begins to complain and I force myself to not make any witty retorts to her constant moaning and groaning.

I turned my head around looking at the suburban house all perfectly aligned and looking perfect. Every house looked the same with their two stories and perfectly green and cut grass. Husbands were leaving their wives to go work for the day and the children were also waiting for their bus. This was the new monotony I was to live with, I frowned slightly knowing that this wasn't mine but someone else's. This neighborhood I was forced to live in would never be mine.

I felt like I was in a bad dream where I was opening doors and not finding the door that was meant for me. These doors were all the same but they did not belong to me.

I didn't like it here.

I wanted to go home.

Back to my home.

The bus stopped in front of us and my bad dream continued; it dawned on me that I wouldn't be allowed to leave this hell.

Another door appeared in my dream and I wanted to cry.