My Life at 12
“BZZZZ!” “BZZZZ!” “BZZZZ!” goes my alarm at 5:30 in the morning. “It’s Monday again. Great.” I think to myself, already annoyed at the fact that I must go school because it didn’t burn down over the weekend, as I hoped it would. I reach over the side of my bed, turn off my alarm, my day has officially begun.
I laid in bed a couple more minutes before I heard my mom walk through the question, per her usual morning routine. “Sylvia!” I hear her scream, “Ya es hora!” (“Sylvia! It’s time!” For those who don’t understand Spanish.) I lazy get up to start getting ready. I walk over to my closet and go for my usual combo, a long sleeve shirt, overalls, and chunky sneakers. I take a good look at myself before heading to the bus stop: Glasses? Check. Hair in a frizzy ponytail? Check. Last but not least, I check my backpack, I make sure I have the most important thing in there, my Walkman. Big, fat check.
“Hey Jocelyn! Hey Paulette!” I scream to my friends. We’ve known each other since third grade and we’ve been inseparable ever since. “Is it “A” day or “B” day?” I ask. Paulette says, it’s “A” day. I trust her because she loves school and would never mess up her schedule. We talked about homework that was due, boys we had a crush on, and plans for after school. “I have an orchestra meeting after school and have to take the late bus. Do you want to stay with me?”, Paulette asks. “Sure, why not. I have nothing else to do anyways.”, I reply back.
Thirty minutes later we’re finally at school. “Another glorious morning.”, I quote from the Halloween movie of all time, “Hocus Pocus”. I go about my day, attend all my classes, my favorite being choir. Mr. Fleischer has us practicing extra hard because we have our Christmas concert in a week, and in the blink of an eye— one class is done. The rest of the day drags on by and I am ready to go home. “Finally, 2:15. Time to go home.”, I think to myself. “Wait— never mind. I have to stay after school.” I head to the quad to look for Paulette and she is nowhere to seen. I head to the orchestra room to look for her; nothing. I walk to her last nothing; nothing. “Where could this girl be?” I mutter. With nowhere to be found and my bus having already left, I have nothing else to do but wait. I head over to the library to wait some more, “Can it please just be 4 already?”, I whine. All I can do is hear the tic toc from the clock and kids whispering about nonsense. Slowy— very, very slowly the clock inches to 4:00 and it’s finally time to go home— again! I head to the back of the school, get on the late bus, find my seat in the middle, pull out my Walkman, stare out the window, and zone out.
I’m so into my music I haven’t even realized that I’m at my stop. I get off the bus, earbuds still in ear, Nelly Furtado blasting, and all I’m looking forward to is some dinner. I make way through the apartments that are next to my house, climb a wall, and I’m back at my complex. After what felt like an eternity, I finally reach my door. I don’t even the energy to call Paulette and ask where the heck she went and why she didn’t stay after school like she had said so. All I know is that I’m home— peace at last. I go to my room, lay down, close my eyes, and just as I’m about to fall asleep I hear— “Sylvia! A comer!” Dinner is ready. I hope my mom made my favorite; because I had a very long day.