The sun hasn’t begun to rise yet and every lamp post hasn’t been lit either. I can make my way through the streets because for the past 10 years I have been watching the same roads, houses and people on the way to school every morning. It’s 5:14 am and I hasten to almost look that I’m jogging. My hands and feet are sweating, and I can’t keep my eyes open for more than 3 seconds at a time. The wind is whipping my face. I stop occasionally to take a look at each side of the road, the front of every house with their expensive Halloween decorations, orange leaves in the door frame, cotton spiderwebs hanging out in pines and the cloudy windows with people behind them. As I move quickly along, I wonder if someone noticed that I’m wearing dress shoes. What does it matter, if one of those fools saw me running in dress shoes at 5:15 in the morning they wouldn’t even think twice about it. I’m not interested in knowing the lives of the people in my neighborhood, but I’m almost certain the that they’re well aware of me and my family. My dad is a well known chiropractor in the area; my family is wealthy and consequently my mom is always into every activity the community does because, of course, my dad’s money.
Two streets more and I’m there. I take my phone to check the time just when it changes to 5:26 am. It’s getting late, and I need to be in home by 6:00 am to ‘’wake up’’ for school. I’m mentally reviewing the little facts that I know about this plan since I just made it at 4:30 am with nothing much in my stomach left besides sugar and caffeine. My nervous system was disturbed and my thoughts weren’t in place, but I do know that I need to be there at 5:32 am; -with some basic knowledge of mechanics- I know that I will need to puncture two wheels
with a sharp instrument broadleaf of about 4cm in length. It takes about 10 seconds to puncture the 4 wheels if you are audacious so let’s say one minute for me. 5:34 am, run. It has been some time since I did something unusual and let’s also say interesting.
I’m already in Willow Drive. I can see the 159 house from here. It is a beige house with a welcoming front deck. Windows covered the entire house, some with the shades down and some rolled up. One look to the right of the garage and I can see the silver Malibu car, finally. I lung towards the back left tire and pull out my knife in a quick, swift motion. Within seconds, my knife cuts open the tire, losing more and more air by the second. Before waiting any longer, I move on to the next rear tire and go through the same pattern. The tire loses air in a matter of seconds and I grin with accomplishment. I go through the routine again with the front tires. I pull out my phone to check the time, and am horrified to see that it’s already 5:40. My boots are drenched in snow and my feet are beginning to freeze. I immediately regret not bringing my jacket because it will take me approximately eight to ten minutes longer to return home when my body temperature is so low. My feet begin pounding the on pavement as I sprint as quickly as I can back home. People could probably hear my heavy cold breaths from miles away, but that doesn’t matter anymore. All that is important is that I get back home before 6 am. I’m also regretting not taking an interest in gym class, considering how helpful that might have been in this moment. My lungs are burning, but I continue on anyways. Nine minutes and twenty six seconds later, I arrive at my back door. I swiftly sneak in using my key and go straight to my room which is at the end of the hallway downstairs in the basement.
By the time I got into bed I find myself gazing at the red light of my clock that is next to my bed on the left above the big wood counter that I made in class when I was a freshman. Two minutes to 6:00 am. I made it.
I was staring at my clock for about a minute and a half when I realized that it’s facing my dresser on the right side of my room -angle of 45 degrees- instead of leaning at an angle of 90 degrees in front of my mirror. My mirror; I  take a look at my reflection in a whole empty mirror. It was completely empty and clean. Every little thing that moves and the mirror will catch it. Nothing escapes it, not even a 3x3 inch electric yellow super sticky post-it note. That was the weird thing. The post-it note that used to be there in the morning wasn’t there anymore.
My mom is always trying to do her full time job of being a mother. I guess since I’m her only child, she’s just trying to focus on something to do, something to worry, complain and be happy about. I love her so much, but I don’t need someone to wake me up in the morning, make my breakfast, either to help with my homework, or personal problems. I am totally in all my capabilities to do everything by myself. Since I’m aware of this, my mom’s life has been very boring. She keeps trying to convince me to join clubs after school, go to the church group meetings, do sports, etc. While all of her friends are posting pictures of their children, I’m not in any activity after school to brag about. I do have a lot of achievements. Every year there’s a new principal in my school, and the tradition is to give an commemoration to the best student of the year and take a picture with the new principal, and I always, obviously, get them all since my freshmen year. How stupid, annoying and insipid. But I must keep the record, right? I remembered my mom threw this huge party for it during my freshmen year. Almost everyone from school was there, besides the kids without friends. Now it has become just part of the routine, but incidentally, there is a chance that I don’t get the commemoration today. Most of the school, is confident that Allyn is going to have it this year. He is a new kid in my school. I don’t know him too much, and although he takes ap classes, I just see him in the hallways or during lunch. He sits in the middle of the commons, in a 4 chair table, with 2 other guys. He goes to the bathroom and takes a drink everyday before getting in line for lunch. Every Thursday he is gone for half of the day, because I don’t see him in the first lunch, and I don’t see him riding the bus, which he does everyday with I suppose his best friend Ronnie. Both are sophomores, and so similar. Both have short brown light hair and are scrawny. I wonder if he will be there today to see how his friend didn’t get the diploma.
Now my mom’s newest idea has been trying to get me to write goals and dreams on post notes, and stick them somewhere where I can see easily. She left a package of different post notes on my counter, and they stayed there for about a month. There was this day when she came to my room with a bunch of inspirational quotes, and sharpies to write them on the post notes. The sharpies are still there. She would ask me everyday how the post notes are helping me. Even though she has tried everything, her last act before giving up after 3 months, was coming to my room after dinner, knocking on the door, immediately opening it after one second, looking at my counter where the post notes and the sharpies are and just sticking one on the left corner of my mirror.
‘’Can you please, just write something?’’ she screamed, but it was so faint that it sounded like she has been running outside in the middle of the winter for more than 2 hours.
The truth is that I don’t need to write anything and my mom knows it. I’m like this kid in movies who is always background because his life doesn’t have any problem to solve, it’s just life. Easy and normal life. Pretty boring, huh?
I get what I want all the time. I have a really nice job. I will graduate early. I will go to college and I have already enough money to buy my own car. Is there any more goals in life that I don’t know?.
Four more days after those three months and I will write in that electric yellow full adhesive post-it note.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize that my mom has opened my door. She is staring at me with a plastic bag probably filled with toilet paper, while wearing a yellow summer dress covered with purple flowers.
‘’Hey Mom, I didn’t realize you were there.’’
‘’Hi.’’ she replied.
‘’What are you-’’ I tried to ask her about the purpose of her visit but then she interrupted me.
‘’Did you just wake up? Are you ready for school already?’’
‘’It’s only 6:00 am, I have a hour and a half to be ready’’ I answered immediately without even realizing that I wasn’t wearing pajamas at all. I took a look at my clothes, and I turned to look at my mom again. We didn’t say anything for about 10 seconds.
‘’You aren’t going to school today’’ she claimed.
I’m about to ask her why, but I get it. I know now who took the note from my mirror. I’m just surprised she could understand it, so I asked her anyways just in case.
‘’Hmmm thanks, but don’t you know that someone is getting the commemoration today?’’
‘’Someone? You already took care of that, didn’t you?’’ She answered entirely sure.
It was obvious that she took the note. That she understood everything. ‘How come? Well it doesn’t matter anymore. I need to be sure of going to school today but obviously she won’t let me.’
She kept looking me with eyes of victory.
‘’Oh sweetheart… I’m very disappointed in you.’’ She said with a weary voice.
When I took the coffee mug from my nightstand and threw it at her face, she had closed the door already.