Till Sunset Do Us Part

Chapter 1 ~ Begining the End

A scared gasp pressed itself from my chest, waking me. Just a dream... I sighed my way off my bed, ignoring the sunlight peaking into my room. Life then was an uphill trek that was getting harder and harder to get up for. My parents were getting a divorce, siblings were being pains, and school was a massive bore. But, Rochelle and I were still really good friends, and break was rolling up soon. It'd be fall break and I'd get to escape the grasps of regular day life.

But for the time being, I was stuck with getting up at 5 o'clock in the morning and rushing to get on a bus at 6:28 to go to a children's prison they called school. I understood the importance of school and education. I just didn't see the point of being in it for so long. Of course, I had almost nothing to complain about. While other kids went to school for 13 years, I skipped a few grades. About two years earlier, I was in the 8th grade. That year, 12th grade was my reality.

I hopped in the shower involuntarily, admiring how the hot water rolled off of my skin. The cold outside seemed to seep in me over night. I closed my eyes and went under the gently falling water. My mind was slowly coming to. What all do I have at school? There's a test in history, Socratic seminar in 4th period... ugh. When can teenagers be teenagers? "Summer," I thought aloud to myself. I shook myself out of the thought. I knew better than to fantasize about summer too early. But I found that harder and harder in the higher levels of school. I probably got it from acting the age of my peers. It wasn't too difficult. Most of them basically hated the fact that they had to do such a thing like school. It was easy to pretend. But as I grew more into the role, it began to be me; like I hardly cared anymore. Then as my grades slipped and they started to threaten putting me back to my normal grade, I pushed on again. Making A's and B's in classes that kids almost 2 or 3 years older than me were failing. My parents didn't seem proud.

But I knew better than to try harder. I had a life, friends. I didn't want to spoil that. The only way I could spoil that was to get too far ahead, or letting them find me out. See, no one knew about my major age difference at school. I just played it off as me entering as a new kid when I was really being a 13 year old sophomore. Being the oldest of my family helped. I had no one to prove me wrong besides my cousin who was in the 10th grade at the same time as me. But she lived in another city -- the one I claimed to be from. It was convenient though. It was my life. And I was happy.

Or, so I thought. My parents were convinced that I was depressed after I found out about their divorce. Which I some-what was. But who wouldn't be? You've seen you're parents together for several years; pictured them getting old together, and suddenly -- poof. They were ignoring each other. It hurt, yeah. But I didn't let it control my life. I pushed it away. Going through the motions whenever discussing it, or swapping parents. I figured others had worse lives. Why should I complain about my own?

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around myself. I looked in the mirror and was comfortable with what I saw. But there was something bothering me. I couldn't see what it was. My thoughts were consumed with it as I got dressed and did my hair. As I padded out into the living room, I heard a knock at the door. Great, Mom, I thought. I looked through the peephole and opened the door. "Hey Mom." I plastered as much of a smile I could bare. I hated her coming over in the morning. It wasn't being with her, it was being with both my parents in the same room. The mix would always bring a kind of tension I never thought possible.

"Hey Hun. Sleep well?" It was the same thing over, and over, and over again.

"Yeah Mom. You?" I turned and rolled my eyes. She tried too hard in the mornings to talk to us. Yeah, we got it. She was a night owl working a third shift. But we weren't.