A few kids laughed, and he laughed with them as he gathered himself and his books into a standing postion. He hurried on to class, taking a seat in the farest corner from the teachers desk. It was world history; as she droned on about the ancient Mayans, he quickly fell asleep with his head reting apon his open binder. He snapped awake when the bell rang and, flinching at the coldl feel of drool on his cheek. He wiped his face with his sleeve and collected his things. He was the last on out of the room. This went on for the next periods too. Finally, he stepped onto the bus, ready to get home.
Riding in a bus was like being in a tin can behind a "just married" car. He was dead; he didn't respond to anything that was said to him beyond a nod or a shake of the head. Finally, he got off the dreadful yellow behemoth and went to his mother's car.
When he got in, he muttered a hello to his mom, who was sitting in the front seat staring down at her lap when he glanced at her quickly. When she didn't answer, he looked up, to notice that the window of the car was shattered, and a red stain on the front of her white cashmire sweater.
He stared in horror at the disgusting sight before him, his mouth wide open. He closed his eyes, shook his head violently despite the raging headache that had sprung up suddenly. Opening them again, his mom's head was still limply resting on her chest, and suddenly she fell forward, honking the horn for a moment, which put Elden over the edge. He screamed. He screamed for what seemed for eternity, his voice turning hoarse until sound no longer came out of his mouth- only raspy air.
He stopped, the tears streaming out of his eyes, to look around for her purse- it was gone. He got out his cell phone from his back pack and, trembling, dialed the appropriate numbers. 911. The phone was picked up immediatly by a nice sounding lady,
"Hello?" It took a moment for Elden to respond. It was an effort for him to speak without sobbing uncontrollingly.
"H-h-hi. M-m-m-my n-name is e-e-e-Elden."