goddammit. that stupid country ringtone. shutoff shutoff shut OFF.
sammy throws her cell phone across the room angrily. the battery falls out.
oops. goodbye toby keith. eyes go shut but WAIT GODDAMMIT.
they forgot they set another alarm on the radio.
every morning. every FREAKING morning, who plays soulja boy this fucking early in the morning. its 6:50 am, who the hell wants to “crank dat”?
sammy yells at Bergen to switch radio stations, and Bergen just laughs and does it. mm sensual seduction.
-WHO WANTS TO BE SENSUALLY SEDUCED AT 7 AM TURN THE DAMN THING OFF.
Bergen laughs and turns it off. They grumble, getting ready. They throw things around and at the same time pick things up. Room checks are scary, and Sammy thinks back to when stuckey threatened to separate them as roommates if their room looked, as he thunderingly put it, like a “disaster zone”. disaster zone her ass. he should see her room at home, where she purposely threw things around just to remind herself that this was her territory. also it discouraged her parents from entering because they feared what lay under the layer of clothes and random items. her mom always said her room looked like a bomb exploded. bombs were cool, but only in movies. if sammy died, she’d probably want to spontaneously combust.
whatever, they layer up and waddle around in the SVgay uniforms. she feels like a penguin, and when she goes outside into Antarctica she feels like she’s starring in march of the penguins. so where the hell’s her mate?
Oh yeah, in Reno. Well, fuck that. Love or no love no way was she walking to Reno. Why did she even consider it? Oh yeah, cause everyone here sucks saggy old men balls.
yummy timing, speaking of saggy balls, look at breakfast.
the breads alright, but they cant really mess that up unless they sprinkle poisoned flour into the already made loaf, oh wait that would take effort, that would be too much. ew the eggs are particularly frightening this morning. sammy’s heard they make them out of powder, but she’s pretty sure the person talking was just being nice. she’s almost, not one hundred percent, but pretty damn sure they take bathtub fungus and yellow food dye and fry it on the stove top. it would explain the bounce of the eggs when she chucks them at the table. but what isn’t explained is why the meat DOESN’T bounce. now THAT is a scary thought.
sammy eats quietly and greets hello to a few people, but really her thoughts are watching everyone out of the corner of her mind.
god sawyers so…lanky. like a noodle, a big goofy noodle with a poofy explosion of uncooked top ramen on his head. with the voice and actions of napoleon dynamite. life must be beautiful, if u were sawyer. sammy remembers seeing his crazy ass heart valve surgery, where a lump of flesh protrudes out of his chest with a gnarly scar crossing over it…like instead of his heart he has an alien vs predator creature about to pop out his chest and eat your eyeballs. sammy’s a bit jealous, except not, because she’s a girl, and she’s pretty sure something that looked like a third breast would not be considered attractive.
after breakfast is class and its all a blur of nicotine and MWAP MWAP MWAP from most of the teachers except mr. Ritchie because every word out of the man’s mouth is a waterfall of enlightened poetry concerning essays and powder. powder powder powder it is DUMPING out there crazy shredding is calling my name and suddenly the pre-calculus on the board looks more latin now rather than Spanish. shred shred shred its so fun and sammy’s not pro material yet but who says she can’t get there? all you need is determination, a mountain, and a board, plus a bit of powder doesn’t hurt, and the way its dumping now feels like vikaden to her snow-crazy cravings.
finally schools out. it may be only 4 and a half hours but sammy swears she could go to mexico get drunk and come back with sunburn and stories by the time school gets out. kay lunch it is. ew. nevermind.
now activity! the only part of the day when she smiles and its genuine, not some plastic smattering of teeth smeared across her face, she hates the fake smiles she despises the fake kids in fact if the school went up in flames shed probably blow on them a bit before calling for help. but wait no don’t think about it shit it’s too late it’s too real, but there is so little of it…there are only a few real people, people divided from the assholes and snobs with nothing but spoiled lives full of nothing, leading to nothing. there are only a few people real to her, that stand out in the fog that clouds her mind when she walks through the fog of snow that clouds her eyes, there’s very few, and they seem to grow smaller in number by the day. she tries not to think about it it makes her sad, and she has trouble breathing when she’s sad. then she wants a cigarette and god knows that doesn’t help when she cant breathe but shes sad and sad means trouble breathing and wanting cigarette which means trouble breathing which means shes sad
but now its activity and she doesn’t care to be sad because she’s too busy to produce water in her eyes. either shredding or up in the gym, getting fit and draining herself to the point she’s too exhausted to be sad, although sometimes the sadness itself is exhausting but that’s something different all on its own and she doesn’t want it. not like that. sometimes she thinks of this school as a bubble and her world in it like a snowglobe that someone keeps shaking up one way or another. she’s shaking now, whether its from a nicotine craving or because her daddy’s yelling at her on the phone, or because she misses her best friend, faraway in not-so-far Reno. And don’t think about home, nope, wave smile make a joke haha isn’t Sammy witty whadda kidder, walk quickly before they look too closely, walk away before they notice, not that it would matter, not that either she or them would care. Home is gone, home is a word erased from her mouth and memory because it hurt while it was alive and it hurts now that its dead. Will she hurt differently when she’s dead? She doesn’t know but she kind of hopes so at least it will be a change, and goodbye will be peaceful at least it must be because it will be a change from life and life is anything but peaceful. it’s a different life, it’s an Amish village but she never agreed to being Amish, because she didn’t know that’s what she was agreeing to. Does she regret her story, how it was told and how she chose to tell it, does she regret the body, will she mourn the conclusion? And would she take it back would she change the past, would she make up for what she has lost by giving up what she has gained, which is WHAT someone tell her she doesn’t know or doesn’t want to cause it hurts. And it’s raw and it hurts but at least its real and she’s really tired after the dinner slop drugging her body worse than painkillers. After study hall she goes to the common but what’s in common between her and them? Fake it till you make it, then what? She goes to her room and cries, takes her meds and falls into a twitchy sleep, knowing she’ll wake up to the same thing the next day, just a little bit sadder because it’s the same thing. Just a little bit sadder, because of what she had, and what she’ll never have, or ever have, evereverever again.