Beautiful Curse

Chapter 8

        Bzzt! Bzzt! My eyes snap open to the sound of an alarm. Craning my neck slightly, I read the digital clock on my nightstand which says "5:55 a.m." I loudly groan and roll to the edge of my bed, switching the alarm off. Then I toss away the bedcovers and sit up with a grunt of pain. My right leg is pretty sore, luckily not as much as it had been before. Which reminds me...

        Last night I had been spotted by one of those animal creatures, and almost killed! I can't believe I allowed myself to do something so stupid such as wander around at night. I just knew something bad would happen. But I definitely didn't expect that black and red hedgehog to shoot at me...and afterward, Sonic the Hedgehog appeared! He was way too close to discovering my identity. Luckily I was able to get away and climb up the ledge of the house to get to my bedroom window. Usually that wouldn't be possible, even for a were(animal), but at the time adrenaline was pumping into my system. Once safe inside I had dug out the bullet from my thigh with my fingers and wrapped the wound in an old shirt. It didn't hurt much. Adrenaline...I'm glad I have you. Of course afterward I had that dumb dream again, but at least I am awake now.

        Unwrapping the bloody shirt from my leg, I can see that the bullet wound is mostly healed. It now looks like a pink, fleshy mark as if I accidentally scratched and bruised myself at the same time. Thanks to this "curse" I am a very quick healer. Stretching my jaws in a wide yawn, I toss the bloody shirt into a trash can and dress in fresh clothing. Then I head downstairs where Mom is washing dishes, a plate of pancakes already set on the table.

        "Good morning, (Name), how was your night?"

        "Awesome," I state with little emotion. I then proceed to stack my own plate high with the fluffy pancakes, dousing them in syrup. Within a few minutes the dish is licked clean and set beside the others that my mom had washed. Before I am caught in a conversation I rush up the stairs to the bathroom and brush my teeth. I grab my (favorite color) backpack from the bedroom and return downstairs to slip on my shoes and leave for the bus stop.

        "Have a wonderful day at school!" Mom yells just as I close the door.

        I sigh and twiddle my fingers at the bus stop, barely able to hold myself up from exhaustion. Finally a long, yellow vehicle appears around the corner and waits for me to board. Reluctantly I climb up the steps and settle myself in a firm seat, fortunately not taken by anyone. The bus is silent as it continues its journey picking up high schoolers from the neighborhoods. Everyone is drowsy, and many kids are falling asleep in their seats. A song plays on the radio but it is too quiet for anyone to pay much attention to. I can't wait for the week to be over, I dully think. Even though it is only Monday I can't help but tire of the same schedule day in and day out. At least I'll see (Friend). The bus eventually arrives at the school grounds to let loose its load. New week, here I come.

        In the school, I drop off my backpack inside my locker and head to my first class: choir. Nothing like a classroom full of screeching kids to wake me up for the day. I am so excited to sing amongst my classmates to show off my perfect morning voice. So. Excited. I sigh as I take my place within the rows of arriving kids, waiting for the instructor to begin our warm-up.

        "You've all had the weekend to rest your throats," the instructor announces, "Now it's time to clear away the accumulated phlegm and bring some lively music to this school!" We all groan simultaneously at his over-enthusiasm. Monday is just not the day to be saying stuff like this. "Okay, okay! On three everyone...one, two, three!" And the room is filled with the absolutely beautiful, positively luscious stream of children's morning voices who sound as if they are the most prized angels in heaven. I'm just hunched over in the middle of the crowd, mouthing the words to whatever song we are supposed to be singing. At least I don't feel like the instructor is speaking to me when the class is reprimanded for the terrible noise.