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kimmy626

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Right now, I should be doing my review for the most important test of the year. The Final Exams.
For some of you who don't know, it's the test they make you take after a half a semester goes by of highschool.
You have to pass the Exam to get your high school credits and move on to the next grade.
     Right now i should be reading, and searching, and writing answers on to the review sheet from
the world geography book. I should, but i'm not.
You can call me lazy, but i wouldn't use that word or term or whatever you want to call it.
i prefer to use the term "unmotivated"
cuz that's all i really ever am, or ever was, really. * UNMOTIVATED *
    well for years all i've done was sit in class. i tried to focus but i never could, so i didn't. i had teachers make fun of me and
call me slow. though i can't deny that, i could never read as fast or as good as the other kids.
i couldn't do math as good as the other kids, i couldn't do anything as good as the other kids really, except run fast.
even so it's not like anyone tried to help me, cuz they didnt'.
     i was in sixth grade when i learned how to tell time, a lession i was suposed to learn
when i was in second grade.
      there was never anything to really read around the home when i was little, and when ever there was i rarely
could get my hands on it, sometimes i just didn't want to. I do remember my bother, mario, sitting
me down once and helping me read words. I learned simple words like... "like" and "the" words like those.
unfortunately it wasn't enough for future years.
     ppl have always told me i was a fast learner. a gift i value wordlessly.
i can remember back as far as one and a half, a time when my mother often looked to other ppl to look after me untill i was two
or three. it was then i moved into The Bar. back then it lived by that name. it even had a sign in front in the shape of an arrow
pointing toward the building. lit with bright orange lights that flashed all day and night. it was there where hispanic's
got together for beer and dancing. i remember my mother sitting at the counter where they poured the drinks and
the men tried to woo the attractive women. my mother was drunk, and she offered us beer, me and my sister.
my sister was older so she went first, i stood behind her waiting. my sister took the sip of beer, she walked away, i
saw the face she made. it looked like she was about to cry, her eyes were all squinty, and she held the biggest frown i had
ever seen. my mother held the can out for my turn, the alcohalic stench reached my nose, and my words slipped out,
"no way! i will throw up!"
was all i said, then my body turned and my feet walked me off into the next room. i always loved the ballroom they had.
it was the biggest part of The Bar. the entire bar was covered in hard tile, brown decrative arches lined
the left side of the room, into another part of it. there were two bathrooms.
(obviously)
over all The bar had about six rooms, the room every one danced in, the room every one drank in, the two bathrooms, the
room where they had the serving glasses, and a back room they washed everything in.
      my grandfather owned the bar, with him the whole bar lived. when he died some time later, the buisness died too.
after that The Bar just became a place to live.
i loved that bar, even when my mother got into a drunken rage and beat me and my syblings for no reason.
    
But with tears in our eyes an bruises on our backs, we did what we had to do.
i didnt' wash that much when i was little. honestly it wouldn't have made much of a
difference. there was no bathtub or shower in The Bar, so we used a sink instead. the problem was,
the sink had a claug in it. we used the same water for two years to bathe and wash dishes.
it was brown and green with a touch of yellow here and there.
maggots lined the unwashed foods on the plates.
lets just say they were the unwelcomed company i had when it was my turn to take a bath.
when i turned five i moved in with my dad, seeing my mom during the weekends. my dad....
                                                                               ~~~
my third period teacher was disapointed that i didn't even write down the answers when we went over the  review.
"do you have all your papers?" he asked.
"no" i answered, my voice craked a little. i may have done nothing with out guilt, but i felt bad that i had to talk about
how i didn't care.
"where are they?" he continued, waving the stapler lightly against his hand in front of me.
"I threw them away" i said referring to the three other papers we did each day since last week.
the few peers i had listening faught back laughter. "why did you do that?" he asked, growing irritated wtih me.
i shrugged.
"well you better go dig them out and hope you can still use them to study at home"
 his voice was slightly lower now. i shoulda just said "yes, sir. i will do that"
i shoulda, but i didn't.
"i threw them in 'your' trash can" i said, half polite, the other half with guilt for what was slipping past my lips.
he just told me to make sure i knew my history. "yes" i said lowering my tone.
isaac, who sits next to me, laughed and said i soulda just told him i had all my papers, and
that if i did i wouldn't have had to go through that. "but then i woulda been lie'n" i stated simply.
he disagreed.
     the bell rang, and the period ended. me being me i was the last to leave the class.
i passed the teacher, i knew he was looking, but i threw the review away right in front of him anyway.
     he told me if my friend debra had the review sheet that i should get with her and study.
the tone of his voice stated clearly he was upset. "yes sir" i said turning my head the other way at the crowd of
ppl that rushed out of the class next to mine. conviently in front of the stairs i needed to use to get to my next class.
     jamie and magan walked out of that class, talking about writers club and how they went to it that morning.
(which i went to too but no one was there so i left. found out later they were printing fliers in the computer lab)
they saw me, waved and continued off in the other direction.
i almost turned to follow them, but i thought better of it and just headed off to my math class.
the teacher wasn't there, as usual.
perla was tho, she sits next to me, she was getting settled in her seat, looked at me with a rasist glance and sat.
     i took my seat next to her. i looked over to my right at the empty seat next to me.
'please say he's absent... please say he's not here...' i thought bitterly to myself.
the teacher walked in finally, greeting us briefly as she walked to her desk and picked up some papers.
probably attendence.
soon, one by one or two by three's the rest of the class came in the room. the bell rang and i thought he wasn't going
to be there. i THOUGHT....
     he rolled into class late... again.
"mrs. arrtak!" he said loudly.
"i need a pencil!"
mrs arrtak groaned as she reached behind her desk and grabbed a pencil.
he traded his I.D. for it and took his seat next to me.
     he fiddled with the pencil before blurting out,
"hey mrs. arrtak! why don't they have a white hystory month like the blacks do?! we have just as much hystory as they do!"
his words sunk into my mind. i couldn't believe he'd say something like that. i could feel my fist clench.
"i don't know, cuz we'd be racist if we didn't i guess."
"we study our hystory through out the school year, it doesn't hurt if we give them a month" i said between my teeth.
     "shut up kiki" he said bitng the pencil.
i would of pressed the matter but i didn't. mrs. arrtak pulled out the over head and told us to get out our reviews.
for a long moment i shuffled through both my binder and my book bag. when i found it i was already a page behind.
it didn't matter anyway, not to me at least.
i just doodled on the papers.
i drew skinny cats with collors several times over trying to make it look cute. i drew wolves and foxes too.
i drew one fox and imagened that it was fell oil and a family took it in thinking it was a dog. i felt sorry for the poor thing.
in the end the oil washed off and the family disowned the fox, the rest i have yet to imagine up.
    the bell rang again, lunch time.
i gave a yawn and reached to unzip my binder to put my review away.
as the class trampled out of the door the teacher spoke to me.
at first, i thought she had discovered my doodles.
"have you finished your review miss. arra?"
"no m'am" i try to say as charming as i can.
"why on earth not?" i could hear the steady rise in her voice, she was upset with me.
"we went over it in class, i practicly gave you all the answers!" she put a little tone in "gave."
i see she hasn't realized all i've done in class was draw on my paper.
mrs arrtack drew her hands to her hips, her aged face drooped slightly, and her dark perfect eyebrows (which took some years
off her elderly state) curved over her eyes' in an incomplete V.
    my head turned to a flicker of movment at the door.
A boy, about five feet and 6 inches tall, with dark hair and dark green eyes, was there.
     i will admitt, he was kind of cute, but there seemed to be something... how should i say... scary... about him.
he wore black clothes with a button attached to his collor. i assume a principle made him put the button on, since it was against
the rules to wear entirely black to school, plus it wouldn't be the first time they did that to somebody.
"yes? what do you need?" mrs. arrtack confronted,
breaking my chain of thought.
     he held up a piece of paper, his schedual. i found it half surprising he didnt' think
to bring anything else, no binder, no pencil, no book bag like me, just that piece of paper. the other half didn't care.
mrs. arrtack walked over to him as i rounded my desk and waited kindly by the side
of the door for them to move and i could go to lunch.
"you have A lunch," she pointed, "after 4th period, your suposed to be in lunch right now"
Finally i can go!
"where were you during my class?"
UGGH!
his voice was deeper then i thought it was. "my... 'brother' was signing me in with the principal, to get my classes"
he's a new student, i've decided that without question.
"oh, i see. well see you tomorrow mister..." she waited for a reply, when he didnt' give one she looked at his schedual
for help.
"mister Omen?" i could tell she found the name odd, i thought it curious.
"yes" he answered looking at me.
when our eyes' met i looked at his chin. i hated looking into ppls eye's. i can't say why, i just do.
his lips twiched as if trying to fight a smile.
did he want me to know his name?
"i'm afraid i do not know where the cafiteria is..." he trailed. "i can take you, it's the same as mine"
i blurted. i tried to put a sweet smile on as i scowled myself.
"thank you" his voice was calm, there was a curious tone to it, one i wasn't to sure about.
     i told mrs. arrtack to have a nice day as i gently touched Omen's arm to signify we were going.
she bid me a good week as we stepped down the stairs.

"so what's your full name?" i asked not really interested.
"Omen de simn"
"interesting" i said trying to squeeze a sweet kind of tone in there.
i didn't want him to like me, but i certainly didn't want an enimy.