Chaotic

--This is a work in progress.--
Chaotic
by Alexandra Platt


While the teacher lectured on about due assignments and new activities, I stared out the window nearest my desk, watching two birds leap from one tiny branch to the other. I brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes as I tried to imagine what it would be like to fly wherever you wanted, whenever you wanted. When things started to go wrong in life and you didn’t know where next to turn, all you had to do was spread your wings and glide wherever the wind took you. The sudden irritation of someone stabbing me in the side with a pencil pulled me from my pleasant thoughts, and back into the state of reality. I blinked hard, trying to get the last few traces of paradise out of my mind, before I glanced over to see who was trying to win my attention over so rudely. “Hello? We don’t have all day, here!” To my luck, it was Becky Waters, one of the most popular girls at Mullen Junior High. She glared at me with deep annoyance flaring in her eyes. She was not the kind of girl that liked to be kept waiting.. especially not on someone like me. I reached across the small aisle between us and grabbed the stack of papers she had been so impatiently trying to get me to take. Setting one of the papers on my desk, I passed the rest on to the person in front of me, who looked equally annoyed at the amount of time it had taken me to get pulled back to the real world. Sinking lower into my chair, I carefully read and reread the instructions on the page that sat before me, suddenly wishing I had been paying better attention to what the teacher had said on the new assignment. I glanced up at the blackboard, hoping to find some sort of clues on what to do hidden somewhere within the mess of scribbles the teacher had so proudly announced as guidelines. Annoyed by the lack of information I had received, I turned my attention to the clock on the opposite wall, and was glad to see that another wonderful day of school was finally coming to a close. Tossing my three-ring binder and sheets of paper into my backpack, I stood up out of my chair right as the bell rang. I jogged down the aisle, and was out the door before most students were out of their seats. I may not have been fast when it came to races, but when it meant that I was free from the Hell most people knew as school, I could have won an Olympic gold medal.

Slowly making my way down the freshly paved sidewalk, I thought about what I would preoccupy myself with when I got home. I could read another book, or watch a television program I’ve already watched a million times.. but, that was all so predictable. I never did anything out of the ordinary, and I always stayed on the perfect “schedule” my father had been so proud of coming up with. I came home, changed from my stupid school uniform, then did something that most thirteen year olds would die before wanting to do. Sure, I didn’t think that reading by myself was that bad, but I’ve also done it for most of my life. If I had a billion friends waiting for me to come to the movies with them, then reading in my bedroom would be the last thing on my list.
I stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes falling automatically to the leather watch on my right wrist. “Oh, no!” Five o’clock, that meant I was late for ballet! It didn’t really mean much to me, but my father and his satanic girlfriend were dead set on having me go there three times a week, and when I was late.. they didn’t exactly come up to my room to congratulate me, like the way I felt was suitable. I mean, who wants to spend an entire hour stuck in a ballet studio with a bunch of stuck-up girls, and a teacher that eats little children for breakfast? I sprinted down the sidewalk as fast as I could, the souls of my shoes smacking the cement with great force as I tried to make my way up the steep hill that lead to my neighborhood. As the sign for “Crescent Moon Lane” came into view, I pushed myself to go faster. Reaching the entrance to the large neighborhood, I sat my backpack on the ground and grabbed my knees as I tried to catch my breath. Now you know why I’m a dancer, and not a marathon runner. As my breathing slowly returned to normal, I grabbed my backpack, and slung it over my shoulder as I once again sprinted down the sidewalk. "2013.. 2014.. 2015.. 2016!" I said to myself as I passed the almost identical houses that lined the street. Okay, so they were a bit more than houses.. they were more like mansions. My dad was the sort of guy that was gone most of the day, and brought home all different sorts of presents for me and his girlfriend. Her.. now, that’s another story. I ran up the front steps to my house, and stopped abruptly on the doormat as I rummaged through my backpack for the key. After searching through crumpled up pieces of paper and erasers that had been broken into pieces, I finally managed to find the small key crammed into one of the corners. I shoved the key into the lock, turned it, then flung the door open with so much force it narrowly missed colliding with the large vase that stood beside the door jamb. I caught the door before it attempted to do any more damage on the house, then closed it before I ran down the entrance hall, and up the stairs. I charged into the third door on the right of the second floor, then ran over to the perfectly made bed, and dropped my backpack and jacket onto the covers. Clumsily pulling off my shoes, I braced myself against the bedframe and prayed that I didn’t face plant onto the floor. After successfully flinging my shoes across the room toward the closet, I began to pull off the hideous school uniform, and pull on an equally putrid leotard that just happened to be stained with the color pink.