I Am Human (bxb)

Stereotypes

Don't get me wrong, I'm the most happy, excited and energetic adolescent boy you'd probably ever meet... but on a Monday, no fucking way.

"Jasper Adrian Sparks!" I heard an irate voice yell from outside the bedroom door. It was my Aunt Tracy. I've been living with her since I was a baby. My mother had me when she was sixteen, and let me just say that she wasn't the most qualified to raise a child while being addicted to party's and cocaine. So, I was raised by my aunt who is five years older than my mother, and who is a kindergarten teacher, meaning she was the best parent I could have hoped for.

"All right!" I screeched from under the fluffy covers of my bed. I sure as hell did not want to move, It was so warm, like a toasty oven. I heard Aunt Tracy pound her fist on the door trying to get me to move. I begrudgingly got up and dressed into the smallest black skinny jeans possible (which by the way were still too baggy around my tiny-ass legs) and put on a black Metallica shirt with a matching black hoodie just for style. It was the end of the school year, meaning that it was way too hot for black on black on black... but that never stopped me.

After I was dressed and out of my dimly lit room I walked into the kitchen to see Aunt Tracy cooking breakfast for both of us. I smiled at the woman who had adopted me lovingly, and went to help her, putting the coffee pot on.

"You look extra edgy this morning, whats the occasion?" She said smirking at my excessive layers. I rolled my eyes at her, she always thought that it was just a phase, but to be honest, I've been in the metal-core subculture since I was born, apparently my birth father was in a metal band; lead singer too. Sadly I had not inherited the voice, I did play the guitar however, and pissed the hell out of all the neighbors in our apartment.

"Aunt Tracy, if I may," I started in my sarcastically playful tone, "I am expressing my great disdain for the world's ugly satire through my dark apparel." I winked at her as he spit out a mouthful of coffee, trying to hold back laughter. "And, might I add a famous quote from some wise MySpace user, "It's not a phase mom."' I ended up laughing myself and both of us sat at the kitchen table with our eggs, ketchup, and coffee dribbling down our chins.

"All right, all right." Aunt Tracy said jokingly, "I'll stop bugging you about being emo."

"Excuse me!" I said in a mock scoff, holding my hands to my chest like I was offended.

"Oh right," She giggled, "Not emo, It's alternative."I smiled at her and winked across the table.

"Oh, stereotypes." I whispered to myself, "How you shape the world." As you can see, I am a very dramatic, and theatrical person; I love a good show.

As I walked to school, the giant hell whole we are all forced to endure, a bright, crimson red sports car whizzed by me. And along with the significant force of air, came a few harsh slurs that hit me in the face.

"Gayyyyyy......" Yelled one of the passengers as the delightful scene of a middle finger was shoved outside the window in my general direction.

Rolling my dark blue eyes and pushing my long, dyed black hair back into place, I yelled back, "It's Monday! Fuck off!"and continued the tiring walk to school.

When I finally made it, I was a few minutes late for first block, which sucked because I actually liked my History class. I walked into the room, seemingly unnoticed by students, but when I sat down at my spot in the back of the room my teacher, Mr. Stiner, called me to his desk.

"Late again?" He said, is voiced muffled by the murmur of other students chatting.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry Mr.S." I apologized, "You know I don't try to be late, It's just a really long walk." I said, trying to make up an excuse when there really wasn't one.

"I know you're a good kid Jasper, But you're a senior now, you have to take life more seriously. When you graduate in a few weeks you won't have the luxury of being late." He looked at me with honesty in his eyes. I really liked Mr.S, I sat with him at lunch most days, and we talked about bands, music, good music videos and upcoming concerts. He had a Metallica poster behind his desk and he had a sleeve of really cool tattoos on his right arm. He was bald but had a big, hipster beard and always wore quirky button-ups with the short-sleeves rolled up. He was pretty young too, I imagined him to be in his late twenty's, but every time I asked he said that he didn't have an age because he was an alien and age was foreign concept... so yeah, he was literally the chillest teacher ever.

"I know." I said, ashamed that I had so many absences in his class.

"Okay, go do your work kid, we'll talk at lunch." He smiled over at me with a glint in his eyes and I walked back to my desk at the back of the room.