Lost Minds

14

"Your social worker is stopping by later today." My mom states, leaning against the entrance to my room.

Sunlight filters in through the windows as birds chirp outside. The laptop presses into the skin of my face as I squint at her.

"So what?" They've been extra talkative nowadays. The newfound motivation to kick me out of the house must be stronger than the fear I worked hard to build all these years.

I'm not surprised.

"She's going to be talking to us together, so you'll be picked up from school by my husband." She shuts the door, as her footsteps hurry away from my room, thudding quickly on the ground.

The social worker? Why would she stop by?

I yawn, stretching as my limbs hum and expand. 7:30 am, the clock beside my bed shines in bright red.

I'm going to be late.

Getting up, I brush my teeth, get dressed and grab an apple from the fridge as I head out the house.

I mope in the streets, reaching school a little after 8.

The security guard scorns me as I walk into the building, yawning.

This place is always so dull and lifeless. Gray walls and lockers up and down the halls loom as stray students trudge to class. I join the stragglers.

I don't hate it as much as I thought I would. It gives me something to do I guess. Without it I probably would be bored.

I twist open the door of my first period class. I stroll in, heading back to my seat.

"Where's your late pass?" Mr. Bunnet asks.

"I was with Mr. Bg." I lie, as Daxon smiles at me, before I sit.

Is he done ignoring me in public? Great.

Mr. Bunnet shrugs, nodding.

Teachers will believe anything as long as you're some trouble student, it's actually worked out nicely.

His voice rings out again as he continues his lesson.

Cheers to the amazing place that keeps me so utterly entertained, cause it's doing a horrible job right now.

When is Dad supposed to pick me up again?

Mr.Bunnet's voice is so low and mellow, it's like a lullaby, how am I supposed to learn like this?

Just shut him up.

I swallow down the urge to run up to the front and bash Mr. Bunnet's head into the wall.

Pulling him back by the few hairs on his head and smashing him back into the chalkboard, watching his blood drip down the sides of the room as it splatters on to my face.

I press my legs tightly together, shaking my head.

He has nothing to do with anything. Daxon will be useful enough for stuff like this.

Just wait.

A crumbed up ball of paper bounces off my forehead as I flinch and it rolls on to my desk. I focus back into the world around me and look up at the back of Daxon's head.

His hand sticks out from the side of his frame and he points.

We're passing notes now? How adorable.

I roll my eyes and try to quietly spread open the sheet.

You slept in today I see.

This is when I reply, right?

No, I said I was with the principal.