ZERO-Preview
Social structures, they're changing al the time. One day you're top dog, the next you're in the dog house. Your best friend becomes your enemy, your enemy becomes your friend. Someone you thought you could trust shows his or her true colors and the people you wouldn't be caught dead with are now sleeping over at your house.The expected becomes unexpected.
My epic story begins and ends with my senior year of highschool. For the sake of foreshadowing, we rewind just a week prior to the first day of the new school year, Senior Schedule Pick-Up Day. My first thought this fine Monday morning, "Wow, my back is killing me! Since when does 17 feel like 70? Ahh well at least It's not Monday..." Looking at my digital alarm clock, I read the time to be 10:45 PM, big whoop for a Sunday since my mom and I stopped going to church... My eyes refocus and strain cause I read what must've been my imigination, I thought it said MON for Monday. Yep, it definately says Monday. In a quarter of a second I establish indefinately that it isn't the first day of school, yet I'm missing something...
"Senior Schedule Pick-Up Day!?" Today was definately the day that all South Green Pea High School seniors were supposed to pick up their class schedules. All seniors... Gosh, I'm a senior now and it hardly even feels like I'm a freshman. I climbed to the top, struggled through advanced classes, breezed through the regular work, and I should be standing in my school's cafetorium to receive my final seven classes. Instead I'm rolled over on my side because I wayyyyyyyy over slept.
It started at 8 AM. All the administration is set to leave at noon, not to return til 2 PM . I already know it takes me too long to get ready in the mornings, but I don't want to miss the morning shift, so I drag myself out of my queen-sized bed, fitted with orange and brown sheets and comforter, two of my favorite colors. I scratch my head and slap the radio setting of my alarm clock and Maroon 5 jumps out at me, Adam Levine sings to me that he never wants to leave his bed. With a silent snort, I slap the radio again and shake my head, my mane sticking out at awkward angles. As I slither out of bed, I wonder to myself why it is that I can almost always predict the song that's going to be on the radio or how the songs always fit so perfectly and ironically...
I snatch the shirt and shorts I had set out last night and grab a pair of tight green boxer-briefs from my dresser, along with my beach-sized bath towel and cracked cell phone, poor thing had such a bad spill last month, plus I bite it when I'm frustrated or it doesn't do as I instruct it to do. I walk out of my room into the garage and from the garage to the kitchen, kitchen to dining room and down the hallway, into the bathroom to set down all my objects and relieve myself from a night of holding in a liter of liquids. Upon ending, I march across the hall into my mom's room, without flushing, closing the lid, or washing my hands(eww? sorry ^.^).
"You forgot to wake me up early like I asked...," I grumble as my mom looks up from her calendar, planning her clients for the next two weeks, "...Get ready mother." I stumble back into the bathroom, flush, drop the toilet seat and notice that I just cracked it. My eyes widen and my brows raise as I start to giggle. I swoop for my phone and am about to message my friend Coco, as it brings up a message from her, "Good Morning!! ^O^"
I cheerfully type, "My toilet seat looks like Harry Potter!!" Excitedly hitting send cause I know Coco is going to laugh her butt off cause her toilet seat is cracked too, which we joked about in adition to the scar on her forehead just like Harry's, except in the center. (It was a childhood injury before HP came to theatres.)
Still smiling I look up to the folding medicine cabinet mirrors at the zebra staring back at me...