It was a normal day or at least so it said the weather report on the radio. Except for one thing, that this exact day I started classes again at another school in another district and with new people, and with no friends. It is not that where I was before I had many, but at least I knew who they were.
At my age it is quite difficult to get a group of friends who youcan identify with, a group of friends who share tastes and preferences with, and if this was not much to add that at my fifteen years of experience in this world I have changed school almost every year thanks to the work of my father.
My father is a “manager – polisher” or so I like to call it. He is good at making look good to managers of large companies building speeches, presentations,papers, economic reports and other things just for the great directors are well before the boards of their companies. He is good at what he does so they call him from so many businesses and companies around the country, is a dirty job but someone has to do it.
My mother on the other hand is not a workaholic like my father. She is rather addicted to the house holding, and at some level I thinkshe is the same as I am but his frustration is reflected in their addiction to order and cleanliness. She loves being the perfect housewife and everyone in the household must work properly regardless of the circumstances, for example, at Christmas she does not like us to get all emotional because that would ruin her rigid schedule for meals and travels, or any other thing we use to do on holidays,and who usually gets her cranky is my old brother Matt.
He is 18 years and dropped out from school and now he works in anything that goes, that is, two weeks ago that we live in this city and now he got a job at the soda shop in front of the school where I'm going to study. But enough about me, I said that my brother is a bully, he has an enviable athleticism for any man I think that is theresult of his biggest addiction which is the gym and lifting weights. About women he has always been lucky or so I think, he is always surrounded by beautiful women and never alone, I feel some admiration for always where he is the people follow him and become him a leader instantly.
Now it is time to talk about me. There is not really much to say about me really. Because until now, nothing hadhappened in my life as interesting and amazing as the series of events that would happen this exact day.
it was my first day at the new school and I was already late, my father had already left for work so he could not give me a ride if the school bus left me, which was so probable as I could heard it coming. Also, I could heard some of my neighbors who alsostudiedat the same school gathering at the bus stop; as I hurried in my room looking for my shoes under the bed, I could heard their laughter and how they told comments with simply hilarity so everybody laughs at unison like a choir; even though, they sounded friendly, I could not avoid think whether they would like me or not, or if they will start making jokes at me the very first time they see me, Icould not steer clear of the thought of seeing me locked upside down into a trash can in the middle of the football field. All these thoughts keep upcoming to my head not because I was unsure or a boy with low self esteem, but because I knew at my short age that teenagers are afraid of what they do not know; for that reason, they like to attack before they get attacked, in other words, I am the onethey do not know and I will not attack, so I would become the victim.
As I ran down the stairs I heard the bus starting its engine, I knew I had lost it, anyway I grabbed an apple from my mother’s fruit bowl and shouted good bye at her, I ran into the door, jumped over my father’s lawn mower and went direct to the corner to see and confirm what I already knew, the bus was five blocks away now,...