i woke up to the blaring sound of my alarm clock, memories of pressing snooze up to fifteen times flooding my brain. i always would set around twenty alarms when i was younger; i'd always ignore my instinct as much as possible.
however, today, i got up right away. i wouldn't admit to myself that i was excited to go to these lessons, because i wasn't, but i wasn't as against it as before.
i clambered down the stairs tiredly, my hair a huge heap on the top of my head. I bumped into a few things on my way to the kitchen, muttering a small, incoherent "sorry," though they were inanimate objects.
my hands worked on their own to make my cereal, and before i knew it, i was munching away at my cinnamon toast crunch. or was it reeses puffs? i couldn't tell.
as i chowed down on the satisfyingly crunchy cereal, i started to think. what if my drum teacher is a pedophile? it wouldn't effect me much, but he's still a creep. what if he's an axe murderer? or a gang member? what if he tries to kidnap me? what if he's secretly atrocious at drumming?
all these thoughts were interrupted when i snapped back into reality to find myself at my kitchen sink, washing my bowl out. i presumed i'd been there for about 15 minutes. ( i swear if any of you make that joke. )
finally, i headed back up to my cave to get ready and to look decent. there was, by my calculations, a 1 in 7 billion chance that my drum teacher could be phil collins, so i obviously had to look kind of cute. just in case.
i threw on a casual outfit. i honestly never cared much about my appearance, unless the event was detrimental to my future or current life. this could potentially shape my future. but it's not that big yet.
no cars were in the driveway when i left. they must've gone somewhere.
without me.
that's okay. they probably just saw i was sleeping. how nice.
i put the keys in the ignition of my car, then remembered i had no idea where i was going. so i texted me mom, and apparently, these lessons are all the way in columbus. thats a 2-hour drive just for drum lessons. oh hell no.
but i had to. for my mom. she'd get depressed again if i didn't. i hated seeing her like that. i never told her this, but i once saw her sitting on the couch, crying her eyes out. it looked like she'd been there for hours. there was something in her hands.
a picture of my father and i.
that was it. my moment of realization.
i was making her that way.
in case you were wondering, no, my father isn't dead. he's just fighting. he's in syria right now, and we don't know when he's coming home. but we are sure he will. he promised, after all.
i pulled out of the small driveway which my car was secured in and typed the address of what seemed to be a house into my gps.
i was taken immediately onto the highway, which i hated. accidents are more likely to happen on the freeway.
i drowned out my thoughts with music blaring through my speakers, my phone connected to the car.
before i knew it, i was at a small house in a nice neighborhood.
this was it.
i don't know why i was so nervous. it was just a guy or girl who was going to teach me how to play the drums for an hour while i look like an idiot. no biggie.
well, now I'm panicking.
i looked up from my steering wheel to see someone sitting on the front steps of the house, staring right at my car.
i got out slowly, his eyes following me.
his hair was cool.
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