Unconscious (Watty's 2016)

chapter 1 ready to post

"Thomas, you're coming down? Dinner is ready!" mom yelled from downstairs. I folded the letter in two twice and shove them in one of my books. 

"Coming!" I screamed. Mom wasn't allowed to find the note, not now. It wasn't yet time. Months I had been thinking about the right way to say goodbye and this probably was the closest I would get.

When I came in the kitchen the smell off chicken made my mouth water. Mom was the best cook, no doubt about that. I looked at the clock, 17:59, one more minute and we could start dinner. I sat down at the second chair, close to the window. This was my chair. I always sat here. My mother sat besides me. Denis, my little brother over me, next to my father. 

I pushed my fork a little more to the left. Otherwise it didn't feel right. I glanced at the clock; 18:00. 

"Mom, is it ready?" I asked, slightly panicking. One minute is allright, one minute is allright, I kept telling myself to not get into an anger attack. Please note that this says anger attack and not panic attack. When something goes the way it wasn't supposed to go, I panic. The panic makes me angry. The anger erupts out of my body and attacks other people. Therefore it's an anger attack. Not a panic attack as my psych sometimes says. 

"Here it is Thomas," mom told me when she placed the pots and pans on the table. Denis rushed to the table, followed by my dad.

"No toys at the table Denis," Mom warned him whilst taking away his wooden train.

"How much potato mash do you want Thomas?" dad asked me with the spoon ready in his hand.

"One and three quarters," I answered, "and one spoon full of carrots and two pieces of chicken." Dad filled my plate. I looked back at the clock 18:02. We were back on track. Dinner had to be finished by 18:20 and dessert was from 18:25 till 18:35. Afterwards I would do some homework until 19:30 and when I was done, I would read till I got tired. Which is around 21:30. 

The next day I woke up at 7:00, put on my uniform and made my backpack ready for the day. I selected the dragon I would take to school with me and put it in my pencil case. The dragons name was Lauri. He was a beautiful red dragon with golden wings. Coming from ancient China according to my books. In my room, I had a whole shelf filled with small plastic dragons. Each day, I took one of them with me to school. In class I tried to hide them. It had happened more than once that one of my classmates had taken my toy and destroyed, stolen or flushed it. 

At lunch time, when I was all by myself I would put the dragon next to me at the table to share lunch with. It sounds strange, I know, but I don't have any friends at school so... I'm the weird kid. I just can't change it. 

I took my bike out of the garage and cycled to school. 8:16, fourteen minutes left until class began. The first hour I had English, which wasn't that bad cause we were an uneven number so I could sit alone in the back of the class and pretend like I wasn't there at all.

The bell rang and I did as planned. The last seat on the left was mine to take. Miss Woods started the lesson, Shakespeare. I tried the best I could to pay attention, but the boy in front of me was picking his nose and it annoyed me. I succeed to stay calm in the first five minutes. Than the anger bomb exploded. I kicked against the back of the puling-boy's seat. He turned around. 

"What's you're problem kid?" he asked.

"Stop picking your nose please," I told him. 

He pushed his finger deep inside his nostril and threw the piece of dirt on my desk. 

The next explosion, atom bomb sized followed. 

"You piece of shit why are you doing that?" I yelled trough the whole class. 

"Man, chill out, it's just a bit of snot, don't be scared of it. You're a germaphobe?" He spat on my desk and I pulled him of his chair. I crawled on top of him, ready to hit. Someone stopped my hand. I looked up to see Miss Woods' face completely red. 

"Thomas," she said as calm as she could, "I think it is a good idea if you take a time out, don't you think?"

"He spat on my desk!" I protested and I tried to pull my hand loose.

"I will bring you to the room, come on." I stood up, still angry, and followed her to 'the room.' 'The room' was a small chamber with two soft red arm chairs, a warm carpet and a wooden table. It was a chamber specially for me to have my time out. In the room there was also a whiteboard. You can already guess what I used to draw on it. Indeed, a dragon. 

Miss Woods unlocked the door and let me in. You can come back to class when you're ready. She said. I, still angry, threw myself on one of the armchairs and yelled in the pillow as loud as I could. When the last pieces of fury had left my mouth, I stood up to draw on the whiteboard. I started with the head, followed by the body, the tail and in the end the wings. Satisfied I looked at the Romanian dragon on the wall. The end of his tail was full of horns and out of his nostrils came smoke. I couldn't color it, but the Romanian dragon was green with a blue tail. The horns on his had and tail were made out of gold, just as the eggs they laid. I put the marker down and stared at the clock. 11:45, a quarter before lunch time. It was time to leave the room and head towards the cafeteria.

The cafetaria was filled with the sound and smell of high school students. I walked to my usual spot and got out my lunch and Chinese dragon. I put it next to me, "Seems like you're my only company today," I told him. I petted him and took a bite out of my sandwich. Something exploded against the back of my head. I ran my fingers trough my hair, which was completely wet. I fished out a piece of balloon. I turned around to see who threw it. The boy who had plucked his nose smiled back at me, holding a second water balloon in his hand. He tossed it and the thing hit my back. Two of his friends came towards me and grabbed my arms before I could do something. The boy grabbed the dragon. "Well, well, did you miss your toys big baby?" he said while he smeared some snot on the dragon.

"Put it down!" I yelled.

"Make me."

I tried to escape his friends but they where too strong. The boy ripped of the wings of the dragon and threw them on the floor. He crushed them under his running shoes and he and his friends left. Tears welled up in my eyes as I gathered the broken pieces of wings. This had been one of my most special dragons. I cried and tried to repair the toy. Perhaps I could glue it at home? No, the pieces where too small. Still crying I put the pieces back in my pencil case and left the cafetaria. I knew it was now time to sent my letter.