I dont know why i suddenly remember this.
It was just pop'd in my head.
It was just pop'd in my head.
I was leaving my english teacher's classroom, [She was making me do an after school project or something] and Mrs. Betch was writing me a bus pass, "Oh I dont need it," I try to explain to her that my mother was going to pick me up in the front. "You cant go to the front, its closed after school."
Then after that, my memory skips a bit forward.
I was walking down to hall, crushing the pass into a small yellow paper ball, then I suddenly hear her yell from behind, "I TOLD YOU NO!" or something like that. I just quicken my steps, utter something mean--the words I say towards her are forgotten-- I didnt understand what the bug idea was! All I wanted was to leave with my mother, not go the front office and steal something. I heard voices, still walking, I looked back one of the school's police was speaking to her. . ."Dont let her go that way!" I ran the moment I hear those words from Mrs. Betch. Heavy foot-steps coming towards, told me that I was being chased, but why! What was the big freaking deal! Did they think that I was lying and using it the Mom card as an excuse to meet with some druggie? Maybe. That was why we suddenly have cops at almost every corner of our school. Druggies. Dealers. Just like anyother low class school. I turned into another hallway, probably thinking that maybe I'll get lucky and confused the donut baster, nope. Just ran into the principle. Seeing him at one end on the hall and looking back too see the cop at the other, made me think of one word. 'Damn.'
In the end I ended up, having to go on the bus. I hated the bus. There was always a grumpy old driver, and kids that define stupidity. There where also boys that proved that could be as sicking and perveted as a pedifile. Girls that I wouldnt be surprised if they grew up to be strippers or homeless and addicted to something.
I remember looking out the small dirty window, thinking that I just asked my mom to pick me up this morning from after school, for nothing. And that once I'm home, she's going to be pissed for waiting and sick with worry from me not showing up.
I alreadly knew. I was already crying, just thinking about her hitting or yelling at me.
And when I did get home. I was right.
She was worry and mad.
She did yell.
But not hit.
That was surprising.
