Bad Dreams {DRAFT}

|| prologue ||

Cover: mrs_mikitahoran

The yellow school bus turned down winding roads, almost throwing the students of Mistle Bow Junior High out of their seats. The bus driver smiled at every scream that escaped the students' lips.

"Get out." The bus driver yelled, opening the doors for the next stop before the bus was parked. I jumped out although this wasn't my stop. Walking five miles was better then sitting in that bus with that unlicensed bus driver.

As I was walking home, I started to think of my grades. I've gotten all A's all year. Now I was worried that all of a sudden I'd be failing a class. What if that happened? I mean, I've been getting grades on all my papers, but what if I'm still failing? Is that even possible?

And then I got to thinking about my boyfriend, Allan. Why'd he ditch me? He said that he'd hang out with me after school, but then seemed rushed and ran away. Why was that? I don't understand.

Pulling out my phone, I called Allan. The phone rang one time before going straight to voicemail. Great, his phone is off. Or he's ignoring me. Was he seeing other girls? Eh, I'll talk to him tomorrow.

I arrived at my house - finally - and threw my backpack on the couch as soon as I walked in. Slipping out the brown envelope with my report card in it, I slide it across the kitchen counter to Mom.

"Ooh, you gotta report card?" Mom asked, taking off the bronze clip.

"Yep. And I haven't looked at my grades yet. You're the first." I replied unsteadily.

Mom pulled out my report card, her eyes filling with anger. "Jacqui! You got an F?"

My heart sunk in my chest. I fidgeted. This can't be happening, I mean, I always get A's. I've never gotten a B or lower in my whole entire life.

Mom showed me my report card. My heart revived again when I saw my grades, realizing that Mom has been playing sarcastic. All 96's & 97's & 100's.

"Mom!" I said, placing my hand over my heart. "You gave me heart attack! You know my education is some serious stuff."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. Here's your report card envelope back. Now go finish your homework and we'll go celebrate."

"Yes ma'am." I said, skipping upstairs and into my room. I finished my homework in an hour flat, including the 10 minutes I took to look over my homework and be sure I got everything right. I even tried calling Allan again, but it went straight to voicemail.

I put my homework in my bag and put on my jacket as I rushed downstairs. "Ready?" I called.

"Hold on." Mom called from the dining room. "Yes, I'm about to take her for some ice cream" - she was talking on the phone - "and then we'll be back." - pause - "Sure! She'd love that!" - pause - "Ok, see you soon." - pause - "Okay." - another pause - "Bye." Mom hung up the phone and walked into the kitchen, giving me a welcoming smile.

"Who was that?" I asked curiously.

"Ms. Davis, your music teacher." Mom replied.

"And what did she want?"

"She wants you to try out for Willy Wonka in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory!"

"But Mom, Wonka is a boy."

"Sure, but he can be played as a girl. It doesn't matter! Besides, it's your school play."

Sighing, I played along. "So I'm auditioning for Wonka?"

"Yes!"

"Yay." I said sarcastically. I put on a fake smile, but in the inside I was rolling my eyes so hard that they almost popped out of their imaginary sockets.

"Okay, let's go!" Mom exclaimed excitedly, grabbing her purse off the counter. "Keys? Check. Wallet? Check! Oh! Almost forgot my phone! Oh, haha, here it is. Okay. Now we can go."

The ride to the ice cream shop was so quiet you could hear a pen drop. You know, that awkward silence between you and your mom in the car? It's like you just murdered someone and now y'all are mad at each other.

But once we got to the ice cream shop, Mom wouldn't shut up.

I can't choose; awkward silence or nonstop talking.

Mom ranted on and on about ice cream cakes, how nice the chairs in the shop were, how they need to have bathroom stalls instead of one, how they need to paint the bland white walls, and how they needed to clean their windows. Like I care about any of these things.

All my life, Mom has been a neat freak. She says that that's the way she is. Obviously. And she says she's allergic to dust. Mhm, sure.

But I still love my mom. I mean, who doesn't love their mom? Besides the times when she's angry or stressed, she's a pretty chill human being. And I love her because of it.

Although I sometimes wonder why she has to be so stupid. I mean, she ditched my dad for no reason. They were together one day and fighting the next. Over a spoon.

We finished our ice cream and got back into the car, this time headed to school. No matter how much I dreaded trying out for Wonka, I'll have to do my best.

Or...

Lightbulb.