First Day of School
“Please STOP! I can’t take it anymore!” I groaned in pained.
I woke up today soaked in sweat. This past week these dreams have become more common. I don’t know why they’re occurring. It can’t be because of my accident, that happened two years ago.
“Jennifer wake up!”
Every time my mom calls my name it sounds more and more distant. Almost like the name isn’t mine to be called. Today is the first day I’m going out since my accident. I’ve been homeschooled for the past two years. Apparently after my accident my family had to move states. ( I can’t remember anything before my incident). So I won’t know anyone. I also don’t have a phone nor internet. Every time I ask my mom, she says it’s cause we don’t have enough money, even though my parents have new phones. I’ve tried arguing but it’s no use.
I get up and go to the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror. I’m sixteen and by no means am I skinny. I call myself chubby because I hate the word “fat”. I have medium brown hair to my upper back. Deep brown eyes, pale skin, and light pink lips. I get in the shower and clean my body. I love the shower it wakes me up and gives me time to think. Sometimes I feel like my brain aches, like something is trying to brake through but I just can’t remember. My life has been pretty rough these last two years. I had to completely re meet my parents, and my life.
As soon as I get out of the shower the cool air hits my wet skin, sending shivers all over my body. I walk to my closet and pull out a dark red hoodie, and black jeans. I then throw my hair up into a bun. I walk down stair and am coldly greeted by my mother.
“Morning Jennifer.” My mother states cooking eggs for my father. He gives me a warm smile, and opens his arms for a hug. I hug him back his strong Cologne filling my senses. Sometimes I feel my mother doesn’t have the compassion to be a mother. She’s cold and doesn’t even give me a glance. My father is way more compassionate twords me.
“Morning mother.” I greet her in a sweet tone. Not feeling like getting her cold glare if I replay rudley. I go to the pantry and grab a granola bar. I eat it in a couple bites. Usually I’d eat more but I’m too nervous.
“Go ahead and wait in the car Jennifer. I’ll be there to drive you to school in a second.” Part of her coldness is shown as she calls my name, “Jennifer”. I hate when she calls me that, like I don’t deserve a nickname or anything. That name is so formal. I think she knows I hate it.