Dominate Everything

True Confessions

((Once again this is a joke))

Andrew's point of view

Actual joy spread through my body, I haven't felt this is a while. I rushed home as soon as possible to show my parents. Will they accept this path I'm taking? Hesitantly pausing at the door, I shifted the doorknob with a sudden thrust to boost up my adrenaline. My father sat in his office, viewable from the entrance of my house. The room was a good 12 feet tall, polished with books hugging the wall, ordered in a formal fashion. I walked in only to be stopped in my tracks; he was mouthing words that I couldn't understand, but I took the hint that he was on a call for work by his lack of eye contact with me.  I decided it would be best to confess to my mother, after all she was more understanding than my father. I didn't even have to think twice about it, I knew where she would be. I opened the garage door and was greeted by the missing sight of my mother's car. Right again I was, out shopping with her old sorority friends. I found a portable chair in our large storage area and made my way outside to the driveway. Unfolding the chair was a pain, I was scratched by lose knobs and exposed wiring. My back was comforted by the scoop that many years of wear has creating in the chair. While I'm waiting for my mother, it best be more enjoyable to entertain myself. I reached in the pocket of my slightly faded jeans in search for the letter that was supposedly shoved in the bottom. As my hand grasped over it, I pulled it out gently to read it.

Andrew Troutman,

In search for an astonishing trumpet player to participate in Harvard's elite ensemble, we invite to join us for the next few years in preparation for 1990's Winter Fest! Further information will be given to you through email sometime in September. Thank you for applying, we hope to see you soon!

Sincerely, your executive professor  

I was startled by a light pulling in, it was my mother. My heart began to speed up as spit pooled into my mom. I shook my wrist subtlety to get my nerves out. I approached the car door and pulled it open. My mother was stunning actually. She had golden hair always up in soft curls, her skin was a faint pale making her eyes look even more innocent, and oh her eyes, boy do they sparkle bright blue, it all went so perfectly with her hour-glass figure. "How was your last day of junior year Andrew?" What was I supposed to tell her? Today I've been shoved into multiple lockers, been told that I'm worthless, and just tormented by every possible student there is at my school. "Good," I say, knowing it would shut her up. "Hey mom, can I talk to you?" "Sure, what's up?" Right before talking again, I heard the opening of a door close by, I turned around to see my father entering the garage too. I couldn't wait any longer, I had to get this out.