Healing the Unhealable

Part Two

"For the last time, wake up, Erika!"

My father is standing in the doorway of my room. "You are going to be late for your first day of school! I don't want an immediate reputation of your attendance!"

I groan and slide myself out of bed. I am going to high school for the first time. Since the accident in my old town, my parents have been concerned for my safety and chose to homeschool me, which means no friends have been made.

My fears have been what is leading me back into my sleep--well, more like nightmares--ever since that day. I haven't seen the light of day in almost a month, and I don't ever want to. But my parents are never happy with me so I figure I can answer to them for once. Maybe this will shift their opinion of me.

I grab the outfit I chose last night: Blue jeans, a dark green polo T-shirt, and some black leather boots; my outfits aren't the most attractive they could be, but I don't want to draw any attention to myself. A quick shower and hygienic care leads me to the kitchen, where a bowl of cereal--no, wait, that's oatmeal--awaits me. I take a seat and begin eating it. My mother made it for me, and I know because it is the Maple Brown Sugar kind; my father doesn't know what I eat or what to make me considering I don't eat much at all.

"Excited for your first day of high school?" My mother is standing at the kitchen sink rinsing her and my father's breakfast dishes.

"Does it look like I am?" I respond. My mother isn't really my favorite person, and if I wasn't related to her, I probably wouldn't care about her.

"Hey, quit with the attitude. Anyways, the bus will be here in about...ten minutes, so go ahead and grab all your stuff and head out to the bus."

"Alright." I quickly gather my belongings: A blue binder and a dark gray backpack. The bus stop is about a five minute walk from my house, so I decide to leave ten minutes before the regular time just in case it is early or late.

My dad awaits my departure on the front porch. "Alright, don't get into any trouble. We know how you can be."

"I'll be fine. Love you!"

"Love you too."

It took about seven minutes to get to the bus stop, where a short blonde girl awaits the arrival of the bus. She looks to be in around eighth grade, but her pigtails and bright pink outfit beg to differ.

I attempt to avoid any conversation with her (I'm not a people person), but she speaks anyways. "Hi! Are you new here?"

I shake my head no.

"Really? I haven't seen you at school." She taps her chin for a moment. "Oh! Were you homeschooled?"

I nod my head.

"Hmph. Not much for conversation, huh? We can change that." She walks over and holds out her hand. I shake my head no again, quickly pulling out my phone and beginning to play a game on it.

"Pleeeaase? I only want a handshake. It's not like I'm asking you to kill someone."

I shudder at those last words and proceed to open my phone's numpad and dial 911. I show it to her, my finger resting over the "CALL" button.

Her eyes widen, and she takes a few steps back. "Geez, sorry."

At those last words, the bus arrives. The driver greets me with the nice kind words of "No sitting with any boys." I nod my head and look at the many seats. Almost all of them are filled except for one with a guy who looks my age.

I turn and look at the bus driver. "What i-if the only open seat h-has a guy in it?"

She looks in her mirror and sighs. "Whatever, but only this once."