I like to the I'm normal, but I know it's not true. I'm never happy. Normal kids, even depressed ones in high school, are happy when young. Usually, their parents have baby pictures and home videos of them and they're all smiles. Not me. I never smile. Not even when I was in elementary school.
Grandma Claire and Frankie are great. They're always happy, always smiling, and always doing whatever they can to make me happy just like them.
All of my life, I've felt incomplete. It's as though the second I was born, the doctor cut me in half, cloned one half, put me back together with the cloned half, and kept my real half so that I'm never truly me. I'm half real, half pathetic wannabe-real.
I told you I wasn't normal.
~*
School sucks, in case you didn't already know that. School sucks even more when you go to a school full of hicks that's so small they put Kindergarten through seniors all in the same building.
When you're the new guy at a school like this, you rule out any chance of friends. They've been building their cliques and making them strong since kindergarten, so no one gets in or out.
Everyday, I did the same thing. I just went through the motions; go to class, ignore teacher, learn from book and do homework in class because you think said ignored teachers are morons, ride the 'bus' (aka: Twinkie- mobile) home, eat , sleep, wake up several hours later, repeat. This is my life.
My last school was in Sweden where you got demerits for speaking any language other than Latin after chapel. My new one is in Apple County, Kentucky. Welcome to Hicksville, population: me. My life sucks major dick.
I am forced to ride the Twinkie-mobile because my parents aren't bringing me a car until summer vacation. Yay. Big yellow bus. Woo-hoo. Hour long drive sitting on sweat-smelling seats that aren't properly bolted to the floor with people who think I'm a freak while I think the same thing about them. Yahoo. Someone, please just shoot me now.
The roads in Apple County, Kentucky aren't even entirely paved. It's all dirt roads on the outskirts of the area. Unfortunately, most of the school (including me) lives on the outskirts where houses are usually several miles apart.
You can pick out the Gallagher farm from miles away, mainly because twenty square acres belong to Grandma and she'll be damned if she doesn't take advantage of it.
Everyday when getting off of the Twinkie-mobile, Frankie jogs over to me and we talk for a few minutes, he helps me fend off the dogs, he goes back to work, and I go up to the house. We never talk about anything important, just whatever, you know?
"Hey, 'Bastian," Grandma says as I walk in everyday, "How was your day, sugar?" Sugar. That was a new one. Mom never called me sugar.
"Exactly like yesterday," sighed as she handed me a tall glass of Mountain Dew: Code Red. Started buying it when she found out it was my favorite, so I had some everyday after school. In case you haven't noticed, my nana spoils me rotten. I think I've gained twenty pounds or so since I moved in three weeks ago. She's always having me taste soups and stews and chilies she makes for dinner. It's almost like she wants to fatten me up or something.
I do my homework at the kitchen, then go to my room. I think I have more electronic equipment in my room than every other room in the house combined. Mom and Dad spoiled me, too. I'm a spoiled little rich boy.
I've got DCM KX12 series two speakers (with 250 watts maximum volume, 8 Ohms nominal impedence, video shielded drivers, and overload protection) hooked up to my amplifier (with 200 watts), that is also connected to my 48' Hi-Definition TV, Dell laptop, and 20-disc CD changer. I also have a scanner, color printer, CD/DVD burner, digital camera, and cable modem for my computer while having a VCR, DVD, PS2, X-Box, and Game Cube for my TV, not to mention my acoustic guitar, acoustic-electric guitar, electric guitar, and bass guitar that hung in a row on my wall.
Yep, spoiled little rich boy. Look that up in the dictionary. My picture's next to it.
Life is good when you're the only child of a successful business man. Yet, I'm still not happy. Odd, isn't it? That having everything you could ever want can't make you happy?
I mess around until dinner, doing the normal stuff; web-surfing, checking my e-mail (even though I never get anything good), etc. Then, I eat dinner, do the dishes, mess around some more, and go to bed.
This is my typical day. Tomorrow, I will wake, shower, dress, and get onto the rolling banana with a piece of toast clenched between my teeth. Then, my typical day will have started all over again.
To Be Continued...