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Boulevard of Broken Dreams - Part 2 By Vanessa I woke up the next morning to the sound of my step dad shouting. This wasn’t usual, he was always yelling in the morning. He yelled for no reason in particular. His abuse was even worse after he started to drink. I made my mom aware about this many times before, she didn’t pay attention to my ‘accusations’ because she had never been around him while he was drunk. Whenever she was around, my step father showed her his other side, his “better” side…if there was a better side to show, that is. Personally, from the experience I had with him, I highly doubted this, but my mom being the optimist she was, thought that there was a good side to everyone.
It took about 10 minutes for me to fully wake up, but I finally managed to use all the strength left in my body to get up. I got ready for school by packing up all my things in my backpack and got dressed. Then I headed downstairs to my kitchen. Some kitchen, I though to myself. It was completely trashed from top to bottom. There were beer bottles all over the kitchen floor, almost all of the cabinets and drawers were open, not to mention there was this putrid smell coming from the sink. My mom tried to clean it up every day, but it was pointless since Richard always managed to throw a fit about something new everyday and that of course ended up with him trashing the house.
“What the hell are you doing up?” he questioned me as if I was a felon. My step father though of me as lower than dirt. He though that I was a punk and couldn’t be trusted with anything. I could see that he hadn’t shaved in a couple of weeks because he was starting to grow a mustache. Richard was a tall man, about 6’1. He liked to intimidate me by standing over me seeing that I was only 5’5. He had dark brown eyes that were usually blood shot red.
“It’s called, school. Apparently, you didn’t have enough cense to go.” I said, feeling not a drop of guilt for my ‘disrespectful’ behavior.
“Samantha! You have no right to speak to your father that way! I think you owe him an apology,” my mom said.
Richard stood there, leaning against the counter with a smug grin on his face. He awaited for his apology. It seemed that he took pleasure in my discomfort.
“Sorry Dick, that was so disrespectful of me.” I said sarcastically. I made sure to use his nickname just to get him pissed off. “Screw you both! Oh, and have a great day you two.” And with that, I headed out my front door not wanting to know what they were going to do next.
I met Tre outside of my house. We always walked to school together since we only lived 3 houses away from each other. I had a grand total of three good friends. That was enough for me though, because they were great. For as long as I can remember it had just been the four of us: me, Billie, Tre, and Mike. We all went to the same high school together. We were like a little family, in a sense. No matter what the situation, they always seemed to be there for me. They each their own special quirks and idiosyncrasies, just like me.
I turned back into what Tre was saying, just in time to hear him make a bad pun. Tre sometimes lacked the intelligence of when and when not to crack a joke about things.
It only took me and Tre about 8 minutes to get to school by foot. Conversely, Billie Joe and Mike lived about 3 miles from school so they drove in Billie’s car. Mike and Billie shared an apartment since earlier this year, when they both turned 18, which made for a very convenient carpool.
We finally arrived at the school. We didn’t like thinking of it as ‘school,’ it wasn’t just the atmosphere, but the kids in there. I always thought of school as Preppy Asshole Land. I ditched Tre when we got to the front door because I didn’t want to be anywhere in sight when his girlfriend arrived at school. I went to meet up with Billie and Mike at their lockers.
“I see that you managed to survive another weekend,” said Mike as he did every Monday. I could relate to Mike in many ways, the main thing being our parents. Mike had been put in foster care at a very early age. He moved from one family to another after he turned 15 because no one wanted a “punk” for a son. His most recent family was abusive, especially the dad. He would throw shoes at mike whenever he needed to release his anger. This was the main reason why mike had left his foster family as soon as he turned 18 in May.
“Where’s, Tre?” Billie asked me, closing his locker.
“Uhh…I’m guessing with his girlfriend. I managed to ditch him before I got caught up in their baby talk.
“What’s a matter, little Sammy Whammy, doesn’t like my baby talk anymore?” Tre asked standing next to me with his hands on his hips. It seemed that lately he had been getting real good at popping out if nowhere at random moments, which I found very agitating at times.
“I don’t think, in fact I know that none of us like your so called, baby talk,” mike said answering my question while making the little quotation marks in the air with his fingers.
“Pshh, whatever! I have to get to class.” Tre said.
“Since when do you want to go to class?” we all said in such a perfect unison that it almost seemed planned.
“Since, since…well, since I don’t want to get another detention and stay here longer than I have to, especially on the last day of school. We have a gig today incase anyone didn’t remember!” Tre said, started to head for class. He paid no attention to the yellow sign on the floor which read, ‘Caution: Wet Floor’ and he ended up landed flat on his face. We all cracked up and finally headed to class not wanted to get detentions again, either.
************************************* The bell rang at exactly 2:45 and school was officially out for the summer. High school was over and now everyone was going to be forced to go out and doing something useful with their lives. Our real graduation had been on Wednesday, but the retard of a principal we have decided that we needed an extra two more days of school to catch up on a few last minute things.
I couldn’t believe it. High school was finally over and I graduated! Billie, Mike, and Tre couldn’t believe it either. Billie and Tre had both thought about dropping out of school several times this year, but I begged them to stay because my parents had forced me to finish school and I certainly didn’t want to be stuck in that hell hole they liked to call a “school” without two of my best friends. Tre and Billie always found a way to make school some what fun. They would always manage to crack an inappropriate joke behind the teachers back and get the whole class laughing.
I walked home by myself today because the guys had to practice for their gig later on.
When I got home, I went upstairs to my room and got ready to go see the guys play tonight. They had recently changed the name of their band from, Sweet Children to Green Day, referring to a day doing nothing, but smoking pot, therefore the green day.
By the time I took my bath and finished getting ready, it was already 5:30. I decided to head to the gig even though it wasn’t going to start for another 2 hours. It was always fun getting there early and watching all the bands set up. It gave me a chance to meet all the new bands before anyone else did.
I didn’t bother telling my parent where I was going or when I was going to be back. It’s not like they would even notice that I wasn’t home. They were too busy getting drunk, after all it was Friday. I just let them know I was leaving and slammed the front door behind me.
Instead of walking again, I took my skateboard this time. I loved skateboarding. I tried to teach the guys once, but that only ended up in a series of injuries and no one wanted a recurring incident of what happened to Tre last year while he was on his unicycle.
I took out my c.d. player and put in, 3 Cheers for Sweet Revenge by My Chemical Romance, started skateboarding towards the gig, and focused on Gerard’s singing the whole way there.
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