ANPAN melonpan
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx✂ ─ ─ ─ ─ TREYwakefield
___________________________________i'm curious of where you're running to with that body
___________________________________facing off to the far off unseen tomorrow
___________________________________afraid of losing the most important thing, have to protect it
___________________________________even if i'm the only one in this world facing the enemy
___________________________________what do you believe in, i want to know
___________________________________always, fighting by yourself in the darkness
Trey swore to God that he still had goosebumps stained all over his skin. A glance at his arm reassured him that he didn't, that his skin was its regular texture. He wrapped the towel around his waist and then padded back to his room, his hair and body still dripping out remnants of water, going all over the wooden floor. He didn't care that someone would slip later on, just as long as he got back to his room and continue getting ready for school. When his feet sunk into the snug white rug, he closed the door behind him and dragged a rather heavy box to barricade his room just in case his sister decided to wake him up and remind him that he needed to go to school. The last thing he wanted her to see was his dignity not covered up. The towel loosened from his hips and was about to fall before he was even done dragging his chair. He hitched it up again. When the box of crap was in its spot, he finally shrugged the towels off, threw it across the room and let it hit the wall before sliding on his bed, and then roamed his room for the clothes he had set out clumsily the night before.
The graphic red and black shirt was wrinkled beyond belief when he dragged it out from under his pillow. And so, he tossed that to the black netted hamper of who-knows-how-old dirty clothes and rummaged around his drawers next to his bed for a clean shirt. A shirt that didn't have creases flowing over it like skin on an elderly person. Finally, finally, he had managed to find a shirt worthy of wearing. He didn't mind that it was a plain (clean) white shirt opposed to the usual shirts he wore with a picture, design, or cocky/arrogant sentence or something of the sort. Nonchalantly, he slipped on a pair of boxers, followed by the usual jeans -- dark denim. His socks were nowhere to be found. After countless failures, he finally found a pair of socks shoved all the way in his shirt drawer. Confused, he sniffed it. Apparently clean, he slipped both socks on. Didn't feel funny, so it had to be fresh. Almost finished, he grabbed his infamous black jacket that he had personally altered to have a red and purple inside whenever he'd roll it up to his elbows. He was now on his way, trooping over to the door. The box was still there, he was supposed to move it, but Trey didn't take notice of it until after he stubbed his toe. A heavy stream of curses and profanities poured out of his mouth like a river on a stormy day. Furious, he shoved the box away and opened the door.
Karma decided to poke fun at him because the next thing he knew, he was stepping on the droplets of water that he had created earlier. Beads of water seeped through the threads of his socks. Even more angry, he attempted to rub his socks on the wood so it'd come off. Bad idea, because apparently the mess of water was rather large and made it worse. He gave up. Trey started to walk and nearly slipped. His anger level was going higher and higher. He gripped the wooden railing hard, let go, and then leaped down four steps, turned, then ran the remainder of the stairs' length with an I'm-super-annoyed speed. Sharp turn, walk walk walk walk, another turn. Pause. This was his limit.
" BULLSHIT! That was mine! " What had he been pointing at? Well, his sister. The twenty-one year old female was happily munching on the last Ham && Cheese Hot Pocket he had hid in the freezer. It was in the waffle box, shoved in the back of the freezer and blatantly placed behind all of this frozen stuff. And somehow, his sister had found it! But if he was being logical, she was either a) watching him while he discretely tried to hide it in the middle of the night or b) she wanted waffles. It could be both. No! Now wasn't the time to be thinking about how. It was to get angry because his sister had eaten his breakfast! He glared at her, his eyes cold and hard, but all his sister did was fiddle with her curls, finish chewing the remains of the Hot Pocket, licked her fingers, and then smiled cheekily at her younger brother. " Damn, that was really good. I was gonna opt for some waffles, but who would've thought that a Hot Pocket would be smuggled in there? I mean, if you wanted me not to eat it, you could've at least hid it behind the waffles, not in the front of the bag. "
For what seemed like an eternity, the only thing Trey could do was stare at her sister. Even after she had smirked, pushed the chair backwards and got out of her seat, walking straight past him, he was still looking at the spot at where she had once been. How could he have been so stupid? Surely, he could've thought of that. So, in a daze, he slipped on his brown combat boots and tied it tight, put the jacket on and rolled the sleeves up to his elbow to expose red and purple, then went to the living room to grab his black messenger bag. He snapped out of the dream-like state and slung the strap over his head and rested it on his shoulder, letting the bag part rest between his left leg and his hand. His stomach bitched and groaned at him one more time to remind him that he had not eaten anything, nor had he had any fluids (other than his saliva) go down his throat and satisfy his moaning tummy. Trey ignored it, swung open the wooden door followed by the screen door. He didn't bother to close it, just left it open for his sister for 'payback' and that she'd leave to go to work soon, anyways.
The walk to the bus stop wasn't that long. He thought it was still early, and decided to check the time when his phone started buzzing irritably in the snug little pocket of his messenger bag. It vibrated once -- a text message. He shoved his hand in and flipped it open at once, not caring about who it was from because it'd be shown when the screen was visible.
dude, you are so late.
mannn, you are so frikkin' screwed.
Trey's eyebrow arched up curiously. He closed the phone, waited a second, and then looked at his phone's clock. 7:30
" s**t. " Incidentally, the same time he looked up, he saw his bus rampage right over him and continue on with its schedule, leaving him to stare at the sign with utter disbelief. The bus rumbled over the bumpy road, smoke emerging out of the Earth-unfriendly vehicle. He could only stare at it, even until it was just a little blue dot lost in a sea of other cars. Though, he could always outrun it.
So, that's how he found himself soon running as quick as he could to catch up to the next bus stop, but by the time he arrived there, the bus was long gone. All hopes lost, he walked alongside the cracked sidewalk and involuntarily stepped around large crevices, dog waste, litter, and gum that's probably been chewed by someone who doesn't brush their teeth and resorts to the rubber-tasting material. His phone buzzed again so he checked it.
are you skipping school??????
Agitated, he began power-walking, boots slapping against the sidewalk. His messenger bag slapped uncomfortably against the side of his thigh. Trey was going to make it to school. But it didn't always mean that he'd be there early.
