I didn't have a bad life or anything. I was one of those kids that never did anything wrong. I was one of those 'nerds'. Each day I would try my hardest to be perfect for everyone around me but eventually it just changed. I just changed.
When I was 9 my mother was killed in a car accident, an 18-wheeler had hit her dead on and she had died from impact. For a while I blamed that man for killing my mother, someone I cherished above all else but I knew it wasn't his fault. Partially it was, along with my mother but I couldn't blame him because it could have happened to anyone and I knew my mum wouldn't want me blaming someone with something that no one could control. So I tried to let it go for her.
I went through everyday life like normal, I closed myself off but I still tried to be perfect, to make my mum proud of me, so maybe I could feel closer to her. I didn't want to forget her.
When I was 13 I was diagnosed with a brain tumour. My dad was distraught, he didn't know how to handle it and so at 13 I was suddenly alone, my father just running away like a coward.
At 14, I was moved into a hospital, and that was where they set me to have an operation that was to decrease the size of the tumour in my brain. And it worked; apparently it was substantially lower than it was originally, meaning I was well on the way to recovery. Things seemed to be brightening for me. I was happy. I was finally released and sent to an adoption home.
When I turned 16, I moved from the adoption home and got a small flat in Shermer with the help of some money my grandparents had left me but I started to have headaches, increasing in pain each time I had them. I went to the doctors like any normal person would and what I found out ruined every plan I had for my future.
My tumour had increased and there was nothing that could be done this time. And just like that, my life had spiralled out of control again.
I was told I had about 2 years to live. I was advised not to return to school but I wanted to. I didn't want some illness stopping me from graduating. I kept living in my flat alone because I wanted to be able to live my life as best I could, even though I was dying.
I'm 17 now, still kicking as wild as before. Haven't seen my dad since I was 13 and that suits me just fine. I'm still dying, getting weaker as the months pass on but I still go to school, though I rebel a whole lot more now. I don't have any friends there; I thought it would be easier to leave if I didn't have any friends to miss me.
I'm actually walking to school now, even though it's a Saturday. To be honest, I got a detention from Mr. Vernon, the principle, when I decided it would be fun to plant an egg bomb in his car. It's on my list you see. A list to do before I die, most people who are dying have one. Though, mines not long, and it's pretty average but I still got one.
It was cold outside as I walked towards school, and I tightened my jacket around me, seeking warmth that I knew I would not get from the blue flimsy coat. My tight trousers gave me no warmth either, the only thing keeping me warm were my thick black socks surrounding my feet, which were clad in my old, grey converse. I knew I should be wearing thicker clothes but I had no time to go out and buy new clothes for the cold weather. I'll just have to make do. Eh. I've been in worse situations.
Eventually after a long walk, I made it too Shermer High school. I knew I was late. I didn't need to be a genius to work that out but to be honest, I didn't care. It was only Mr. Vernon there. And he was a right old prick, might as well screw with him. It's not like it mattered; I would be gone soon enough anyway.
I made my way into the building, walking as slow as I could towards the library where I knew I had to stay for the duration of the detention.
I saw the door was open, and Rick was already there. Though he looked like he was about to start talking. I glided in, walking straight past him and made my way to the front desk without looking at any of the other students because I didn't think any of them would be worth my time. But before I could sit down, a voice broke into the silence.
"Well Ms. Speare, late again I see. Another Saturday of yours is mine."
I turned to him in disbelief.
"Right, I was only 2 minutes late. Sue me. I have better things to do than come to this fucking detention you know? But would you look at that, I am here, albeit 2 minutes late. But I won't say sorry, saying sorry means that I won't do it again."
"That's enough out of you Speare! Two more Saturdays! Now shut up and sit your ass down or do you want to go some more?"
I rolled my eyes at his dramatic response before sitting in my seat. I kept my eyes firmly to the front. Not wanting to look at anyone else. I guess I'll be late for those detentions as well then. Can't say I didn't warn him though. Pig.
Mr. Vernon continued talking, his dreary old voice filling my ears.
"Well... well. Here we are! I want to congratulate you for being on time. Well some of you that is."
I knew from the tingles in my neck that he was looking at me, as were the students behind me, judging me for no reason. Probably looking at my clothes, or how pale I look in comparison to all of them. I struggled not to shift under their gaze before all their attention was thrown towards a girl in the front row next to mine as she raised her hand to speak.
"Excuse me, sir? I think there's been a mistake. I know its detention, but...um...I don't think I belong in here..."
But good old Mr. Vernon doesn't care as he just continues speaking.
I mutter under my breath slightly.
"Wow, rude and a dick. What a fucking surprise."
I'm surprised to hear a chuckle from behind me and I look to see a boy smirking at me. Of course it's Bender. Isn't it always? I ignore him completely before turning back to the front and pretending that what just happened never happened. Just had to be the boy I kind of liked. Fuck my life sometimes.
"It is now seven-oh-six. You have exactly eight hours and fifty-four minutes to think about why you're here. To ponder the error of your ways and you may not talk. You will not move from your seats and you—" he was solely pointing at bender "will not sleep. Alright people, we're going to try something a little different today. We are going to write an essay, of no less than a thousand words, describing to me who you think you are."
"Is this a test?"
Bender is the one to ask that question. His voice holds humour and from that I know he's just trying to get a rise out of the man. Got to admit though, it's going to fun to see what he says to the dick.
Rick just ignores Bender though and hands out some pencils and paper, continuing to speak as well.
"And when I say essay, I mean essay. I do not mean a single word repeated a thousand times. Is that clear Mr. Bender?"
"Good. Maybe you'll learn a little about yourself. Maybe you'll even decide whether or not you care to return."
The nerd behind me decided it was a good enough question to answer and raised his hand, stood up and began to talk. It reminded me of when I was a full out nerd, trying to fit in and be perfect. Now I just tried to have as much fun as possible without people since I had roughly a year left to live out my life. Sad really.
"Ah, ya, I can answer that right now sir. And that'd be 'no', no for me cause—"
"Sit down Johnson."
Vernon said to the nerd, who I now knew as Johnson, not that I was going to remember, these kids were not worth my time, and he did as he asked like a good little boy.
"My office," Vernon continued "is right across that hall. Any monkey business is ill-advised. Any questions?"
Really dumb question if you ask me personally, especially when Bender just had to ask that question, equally as dumb.
"Yeah actually I got a question. Does Barry Manilow know you raid his wardrobe?"
I couldn't help but giggle at the question that was actually pretty funny. I tried to hide my laughter behind my hand but it didn't really work especially when a few others snickered.
"I'll give you the answer to that question Mr. Bender, next Saturday. You can join Ms. Speare. Don't mess with the bull young man, you'll get the horns."
And with that he left, making Bender say something after him.
"That man... is a brownie hound."