Give Them A Show, Charlie.

Chapter Two - Bad Day not Bad People

You open your eyes slowly. Last nights unfinished doritos colour your face. You accidentally start to choke on your own drool forcing you to abruptly sit up. Unfortunately for you, you share a bunk with your little brother. You are one bottom bunk.

Ergo.

You just gave yourself another bruise. Good mornings to you, sunshine!! Such a lovely morning to be alive. This is a common occurrence, but that doesn't mean you can't complain. And that's what you did. Clutching your fresh wound, you roll to the side to check your phone. Being a mature young adult you pout your lips and groan. You felt like you had only been asleep for a few seconds. The lock screen said '8:54 am' in big white letters

Wait.

'8:54'!!!!!!

Tumbling forward with break neck, you whooshed from counter to counter pushing everything you could possibly need into an old messenger bag, all the while simultaneously sniffing to see if the clothes you slept in are socially acceptable to show up to school in. You hear mum pummeling the poor car horn in. This is most likely why your neighbors don't like you.

" I'M GOING!! SHUT UP!"

You burst through the door with an apple in your mouth, punching everything into the tiny bag. You are halfway to the car when mum screeches out the window -

"Close the door! Hurry up!"

The cobble steps that lead to your front door decided to make your morning even better by tripping you over. With a large scratch running up the front of your left leg you scramble to the door, slam it and dash back.

Bag in lap, seat belt on and panting like a dog, your Mum finally sped out of the driveway. But not before shoving her hair brush up your nose. A quick mumbled thanks before you start to perform surgery on your antigravity hair. As a result of your perfect morning you were stressed and miserable. Your constant state of being.

Obviously Mother Nature felt the same. It started to rain. Hard. By the time you reached the main road it was a waterfall after rapids. You lived in a hilly area, so when it rains the streets turn into a water park.  It's not so great for driving, but hilarious to watch intoxicated boys try to boogie board down the hills. It's how you broke three fingers on your left hand.

You brushed last nights midnight snack off your face with the crunch of your apple. The little sardine tin of a car made it's way higher and the fog got thicker. You suddenly had a very prominent nagging feeling. Like you had forgotten something. You chewed your food slower and looked out window, trying to think of what could possibly be missing.

Mum notices this. " What is it now, Jess? " She gives you a look.
A ' What did you do this time?' look.
You had forgotten the one thing you were HAD to remember. Your last chance at not failing Year 11 General English. A creative writing piece you completed at Two am last night. It would be acceptable if you asked for an extension, however this was the extension. It was due officially a week ago. If you get an ' N ' Award ( a non -attempt warning where nothing was turned in ) you have to repeat Year 11.

By this point you were as pale as the fog that blurred the road ahead.

"The story." You whispered, mighty as a mouse. The two of you harmonised while freaking out at each other. Honestly, you would not be surprised if passing cars could hear you.

"Stop yelling! Turn around already!"

"I can't, Kid! There is traffic coming from the other side!"

Both of you fidget under the blanket of uncomfortable silence. You quietly had a midlife crisis at the age of 17.

"I can make you a lame excuse note again! I'll say that I witnesses the neighborhood feral cat ate it when you were working on it on the veranda! Right, Jess?"

Her words were nervous and frantic. Her hands gripped the wheel so tight her knuckles matched your horrified face.

"No. No. Mum, its ok. I don't what them to question your right to be a mother again. I don't want you to be anywhere near the firing line."

You shared a deep breath out. Your eyes met. Sadness and failure swam and sank in your Mum's eyes.

"I just don't want you to end up like. .

Me. Jess, just don't end up like me. You deserve so much note than I have. "

You and your Mum are best friends. Thick as thieves, you too are. Your first friend. Unfortunately, she knows exactly what you are going through. She snapped under the pressure mid year 12. She ended up having a traineeship under a carpenter and bricklayer. Back in the day your mum was quite the slab of muscle. You are told that your Mum and you are very alike. Good, because your Mum is cool.

The rain made it very hard to see, but a familiar figure gets closer. You tell Mum to slow down.