Teenagers

I woke up to Blink-182’s ‘The Rock Show,’ my alarm. I climbed out of bed. Put on a black Ramones shirt and a pair of faded, black skinny jeans. I shoved my feet into my old, beat-up, black boots. I trudged down the hallway to the bathroom.
I messed around with my hair until it was how I wanted it. I realized I didn’t was my eyeliner off last night, and that it was still there. I left it, because I didn’t feel like redoing it. I walked out of the bathroom and down the stairs. Mikey was sitting in front of the TV playing Grand Theft Auto, again, as he does every morning.
“Gee,” he said, “can you hand me my toast? It’s on the table.” His eyes were ,locked onto the TV. He was in the middle of a police chase.
“Get off your ass and do it yourself,” I said with a laugh, putting frozen waffles into the toaster. Mikey groaned.
“I can’t,” he said, “I’m going to have to restart the mission if I pause it.” I rolled my eyes. I picked up his plate and handed it to him. “Thanks,” he said, shoving bread into his mouth whilst shooting a cop. I pulled my waffles out of the toaster. I sat down next to Mikey on the couch and started eating my toast.
“So what are you trying to do?” I said. Mikey was picking up what I assume was a prostitute. He paused the game.
“Well,” he started as the lady got in the car, “I’m going to take this hooker up into the hills, kill her, and take her money.”
“Why?” I said. I never really understood the enjoyment Mikey got out of killing whores.
“Because it’s fun,” he said, cramming another piece of toast in his mouth.
About a half an hour later, we got ready to get on the bus. Mikey and I put on sweatshirts, hoods up, bracing ourselves for the harsh storm outside. Mikey flung open the door and we ran out. I lock the door behind us before running like hell to the bus stop. Luckily, the bus came earily.
I sat at the back, as usual. I put in my headphones and played my music. I turned it up loud enough so that it was the only thing I could hear. I leaned my head against the window, watching the large rain drops roll down the glass. I loved the rain, but I wasn’t a big one for being out in it. I just liked watching it roll down windows and splash against the pavement.
After about 30 minutes, we got to hell, or as people may call it, school. We met Ray by the office again.
“Rehearsal again tonight?” He asked. Mikey and I looked at each other and nodded. “Cool.”
“I swear,” Mikey said, “we’re going to make it big one day.”
“One day,” I said. We all laughed. I sighed, hoping Mikey was right. I would love for My Chemical Romance to make it big. That’s been my dream since we started the band.
The bell rang, releasing us to first period. “Later, guys,” Mikey said as he started heading to his first class. Ray and I waved as we walked to World History, or as we call it, the most boring ass class known to man.
I sighed. Today felt like it was going to be a long day. And I hate long days.

Notes