• The little, red clock sitting next to my bed buzzed its quirky tune at exactly 7:30. Time to get up. Of course, my body resisted my mind’s awakening and stayed curled up in my warm bed. My eyes opened and closed, as the light streaming into my room from my bedroom window taunted them. I yawned again, louder this time, and forced my misbehaving body out of bed. I sat up and slipped on my slippers and slowly straightened my legs to stand. While yawning again I took a few moments to stretch. I walked toward my bedroom door and opened it slightly, making sure I could avoid another heated argument with mom. I left my room, closing the door softly behind me and tiptoed towards the bathroom. I walked to the sink and looked into the mirror. Ugh, look at that. I hate how I look. Look at those wild freckles spread across my face and that lame, plain brown hair. I need a makeover badly, I thought. I poked and prodded my face trying to smash the few, barely noticeable, horrid pimples which to me seemed like they covered my whole face. I washed my face with the warm water from the faucet. As I reached for the towel on the silver pole next to the sink, I heard a muffled “uh-hem” from behind me. I dried my face and looked up in the mirror to see my mother standing behind me with her arms folded across her chest. Oh great. I thought, now what else in my life does she want to ruin? Reluctantly, I turned around to face her. “Can I help you?” I asked coldly. She took a step forward and uncrossed her arms and pointed her finger at me. “don’t you give me that tone young lady.” she nearly screamed at me. “I know you’re still upset at me, but ..” Her voice trailed off as my mind blocked out what she was saying an went back to when this started. It was a few days ago when I asked my mom about going to the Spring dance this up coming weekend with my friends. She totally went berserk and started initiating that I was to young to attend a dance, especially if boys were involved, which they were. She told me I could not go, and that I would just have to wait until I’m older. I knew she didn’t trust me, which made me really angry because I never gave her a reason not to. Of course, she tried telling me that it’s not that she doesn’t trust me, but the fact that she doesn’t trust anyone else, especially boys. To me, that was a crazy excuse of hers to not make me upset with her. She should have known it wasn’t going to work. I turned back around facing the mirror once again as she stormed out of the bathroom rambling about me never listening. I shrugged and began brushing my teeth. The mint flavor filled my mouth and I spit it back out into the clean, shiny sink. I rinsed my mouth and spit again. After I was done I left the bathroom and headed back to my room thinking about what I should wear today. Something pretty, but not to preppy.
    I opened my closet a bit to hard, and it thrashed into the wall. “oops.” I murmured to myself. I looked through the vast options of clothes making random comments about each. I couldn’t make up my mind. I finally decided on a simple pair of blue jeans and a purple shirt with the name “The Used” on it, my favorite band. After I got dressed I gathered up the homework I completed late last night, and a few things I would need for the day and stuffed it in my backpack. The same backpack I’ve had since the third grade and its still standing seven years later. I threw the backpack on and started for the stairs. Only to my surprise, I looked down and noticed I forgot my shoes. I trudged back to my room and looked around searching for my sneaker. Finally, with great luck (I have a really messy room), I tracked down my shoes and slipped them on. I walked to the stairs again and headed down them. I could smell the warm, sizzling bacon frying in the kitchen. It smelled delicious. I entered the kitchen, mom had her back to me and dad was sitting in the chair at the kitchen table reading an article about nose hair reduction. I rolled my eyes at dad and sat across from him at the table. Mom had to of known I was in the room because she stiffened her stance and made a grumbled sound. She swiftly turned around, put on a smile and set our breakfast on the table. I rolled my eyes at her as well then glanced at the food in front of me. Bacon, sausage, eggs, Fried potatoes, yum, I thought. My stomach agreed with me by growling a rumble sound. I ate my breakfast super fast because I was afraid I might miss the bus, which was making its way around the corner as I approached the bus stop. I lugged my heavy backpack up the bus stairs and gave the lady my dollar. My eyes skidded across the many rows of seats looking for an available one. I finally found one at the back of the bus and headed that way, passing by all the other people slowly making their way through the groggy morning. I sat down and nestled my backpack against my leg and looked out the window. I saw an old man resting against the brick wall of the apartment complex across the street. I could tell he was poor and in need of a shower. I started to feel sorry for the man, even though I didn’t even know him. The bus started to move forward which made me lose my concentration on the man. I looked at the people sitting in the next row beside mine. There was a older woman and her son, I assumed. The boy played with a wooden plane that he must have brought along with him. Across from them was an old man. He wore a brown cap with the picture of a fish on it and he wore what looked like scraggy old overalls. Sitting next to him was a young Hispanic guy who was in a deep conversation on the phone. He looked like he was a part of a major business because of the nice suit and tie he wore. The suitcase resting on his lap also made him look that way. I looked out the window once more, watching the shops and buildings slowly pass by. Finally I saw the gas station from which I am supposed to get off to head to school. The bus crept up to the bus stop and I grabbed my backpack, slung it over my shoulder, and headed out the front, not making eye contact with any of the people I passed. I’m a very shy person. I stepped off the bus onto the sidewalk and started pacing to school.
    I looked to my left and saw the top of the school. Once I got there I looked around for my friends. Across the field near the flag pole there they stood like all the other early birds on campus. They stood there talking and texting, chatting with each other about the day ahead I guessed. I walked towards them up the stone walkway leading to the school. Once I got there I set my overly loaded backpack down on the grass and looked up at my friends who were in deep conversation. They stopped and looked at me, looking guilty. “What are you guys talking about?” I asked suspiciously. “oh nothing.” said my friend Amanda. To change the subject quickly before I got a chance to accuse them of talking about me, My friend ,Sierra, asked if I wanted to head down to the 7/11 down the street for a jumbo cherry slushy. There was still quite a bit of time left before school was to start, but I knew that if my mom found out that she’d ground me for life. But I also wanted to go really bad. Maybe, I thought to myself, maybe if we go fast enough and get back quick enough we’ll be okay. My mind wandered off into thoughts of “maybes and what ifs” . Before I could make my decision, I am the type of person who has to go through every detail and fact before I make up my mind, Amanda threw my backpack at me and told me to come one, we’re going to 7/11. I guess they made up my mind for me, again.
    The walk to the store isn’t very long. I live in a little town, that has a little, inferior name nobody ever knows about except for the unlucky people who lives here. Like me. I live in the type of town where everyone knows each other, either because they’re blood related, related by marriage, close friends, friends of friends or just the typical wave and say hello relation. We soon approached the store. Only one car was parked in the parking lot, and it belonged to Mr. Meyers, the manager and cashier of the place. Actually he is the only one who works here, except when his nephew comes into town to help because his parents like to think Mr. Meyers would straighten his a** out, but he always returns just as bad as before. We walked through the doors of the place, waving hello at Mr. Meyers who was happily sweeping the aisles. You can tell he loves his job. Amanda and sierra rushed to the slushy machine and I just stood beside the rack of magazines. I rummaged through them looking for a good read and picked up a Seventeen Magazine and flipped through the pages, quickly scanning over them making silent comments on the things my eyes caught. I suddenly got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. A feeling that wouldn’t go away. Something told me that we shouldn’t have came here, that we should have stayed at school. I quickly set down the magazine and started to walk towards my friends. Right then, a giant white van pulled up in the lot. It looked like it belonged to a company but it didn’t have any logos on it. Three, darkly dressed men jumped out of the van. Two from the front and one from the back. They rushed through the doors, all three holding guns.