Hear Your God Speaking

| Chapter: 2 |

I pick up the pace and make it into class seconds before the bell rings and I'm in my seat.

"Just in time Miss. Celeste." Mr. Peterson my calculus teacher remarks. He's a middle aged guy probably around his late forties, wears a comb over, and khakis. He's the only calculus teacher here that I've heard lease complaints about, and I want to make it through the year even if that means awkward small talk, and hearing students moan whenever he cracks, lame or unpleasant jokes we all didn't ask for. This is the year we'll make a decision on what college to go to and creating portfolios of our high school accomplishments. I made amends to join two clubs last year, because it was now or never. After spending a whole class period sitting in the guidance counselors office, repeatedly I've heard I must do something now as a sophomore instead of my junior year or it'll look like I'm joining clubs to appear like I am a well rounded student for college transcripts. Along with certain classes they are looking for students to take, I also do dual enrollment to get a head start on taking college classes. I'm hoping to graduate not only with my high school diploma but also with my associates degree. Only a few students get into doing stuff like that, but it helps me stay preoccupied and with options to which college I'll choose to attend.

In all honesty I don't have it all figured out even though to others it appears so, but it's more than what I demonstrate on the outside that has everyone thinking that I'll make it far in life. My parents, my friends, my siblings, and people in general must think I really care about my education and the betterment of myself, but all that I do is to keep me from falling off the edge. Kid's my age take risk and are pre pressured into making risky decisions, much of it is the things we are exposed to, and temptation. I use to turn to the very things that would lead me in the path of more destruction, and at the time I didn't care for my life, there was nothing to hold on to, and sometimes I still feel that way, but what it was who was holding on to me. It was a dangerous and selfish act when I turned to drugs, I use to idolize these things, until the light bulb turned on and I saw I was affecting my family too. I had let the past consume me and I had modified my way of living to cope with the pain, and at often times I feel like a wandering soul looking for their place in this life. I rely on time, to accept the things I cannot change and take control of the things I can, which is my future.

I remember a conversation me and my mother had about having good morals and why she believes in it. I remember her sitting me down to talk about what I had done and how she thanked God for helping me find my way. She continued on to say that she prayed that I would chose the path that would lead me into everlasting life, and that living a life aligned with God's plan would assure that my afterlife would be spent in Heaven with "the Father of all creation." I told her that the good I do isn't so that I could be on God's side, that I'm choosing to do what was right for myself, and my future. She then went on to say life is to be filled with a purpose and a hope thats suppose to bring us to the finish line where we say all that we do isn't in vain, we do what is right because of what will come to us in the end ... and to make God proud. If we had no hope then why do we continue to do what is good if there was no purpose, no heaven, or a hell? I say that can't be true, because it is scientifically proven that doing what is good stimulates your mind and makes you happy. She laughed at this and told me that doing what's wrong makes people crave the excitement that they can get away with it and get what they want. It also makes a person feel alive even, and leads them to do it again, but it could never satisfy their soul, it only makes their soul thirsty. It was thought provoking, but it left me with other unsolved questions about this "God" she keeps mentioning.

We were fifteen minutes into class when someone walked in; I hadn't looked up like everyone else had in class, because for one I was trying to copy down these notes on the board. In my peripheral vision I caught a glimpse of a tall male, might be around 6 feet, with broad shoulders, and skinny frame. He was slightly muscular, had a wavy hair texture, and sagging his pants. I wasn't impressed, but when he came to sit next to me I could see the girls in my class eyes trailing on him as he went to the back of the room. He sat at a seat to the row next to me and didn't seem phased by all the stares. I could feel his eyes on me looking me up and down, and back to his work again. The bell rung for class change, and I can hear footsteps behind me, I didn't look back because I assumed someone was going the same way as me so it was no big deal. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I pulled away as I looked back.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He said. "I wasn't scared." I made clear to him. "Alright, well I was wondering if I may see your notes, I didn't get the first half since I came-." "Yeah sure just give it back to me next class." I pulled out my notes from my notebook, and handed it to him before he could say anymore and went on my way.

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