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A Rude Awakening
Beep Beep Beep. I groaned and turned in my bed. The light that peaked through the window danced across my face. I turned again, trying to drone out my crying clock. I knew in a few minutes my mother would burst through the door and harass me to get up. I closed my eyes, starting my routine countdown: five, four, three, two, ONE!
I clenched my eyes shut, bracing myself for the coming sound of my door ramming into the wall after being flung open. Only it never comes. I turned to face the door; the paint seemed duller since the last time I looked at it. “Mom,” I called out in spite of my drowsiness. There was no reply.
Cautiously, I crawled out of bed and quickly changed into the outfit that was hanging on the closet handle. Silently, I opened the door and peered out into the hallway. Glancing both ways, I discovered the hallway was clear.
Slowly, step by step, I snuck down the hallway. I glanced backwards for a mere second before it felt like I collided with a rock, a rock that had not been there four seconds prior. I looked up and saw a middle-aged woman with rollers, and she was most definitely not my mother. Next thing I heard was her ear-piercing scream, which caused a chain of events. I screamed, some dogs barked, and a man ran up the stairs holding a bat. Not my ideal morning. I frantically ran as fast as I could past the man, narrowly escaping his swinging bat, and bolted down the stairs and out the door.
Panting and sweating bullets, I didn’t slow down until I was a good five or six blocks away. Just who were those people and what in Madonna’s name were they doing in MY house! At least I think it was MY HOUSE. It was, wasn’t it? If not, then whose clothes am I wearing? I pondered these thoughts as my feet continued to drag me forward until I realized I was standing in front of the high school. I groaned as I remembered that I had biology homework due in my first period, and my other homework…
My mind went blank; I remembered nothing after biology yesterday.
Puzzled, I shuffled into the building along with all the other students, students that I did not recognize. Not a single one of them in the crowd was familiar! I picked up my pace as I walked through the hallways, searching the doors for the number forty-five, my biology class with Mr. Dyer. After finding the room, I took my usual seat at the back of the class. I relaxed my head in my arms in distress; I had no materials for the class! Suddenly, a girl sat beside me who I never seen before, and she sat in the seat my best friend was supposed to be in.
“Umm, hey my friend sites there, ca-“I started before being cut off.
“What are you talking about? I’ve been sitting here since the beginning of semester. If anyone should move, it’s you,” she sneered at me rudely before occupying herself with painting her nails.
My shock increased when I saw the teacher walk in; It was not Mr. Dyer. It was a man I have never seen before. Furthermore, I had a feeling he was not just a sub as he stopped abruptly when he set his eyes on me.
“Now who would you be?” he inquired, baffled by my presence.
I looked at him, and then at the group, who now had all eyes on me. I shot up out of my seat and answered him in a stutter, “I-I’m Ruth Gorman; I think I have the wrong class,” before dashing out of the room. I wandered in the hallways stumped; why was everything so strange today? Where did everyone go? People just don’t disappear out of thin air.
I came to a halt when I noticed a faded plaque nailed into the wall. I subconsciously traced my fingers along the etched words: “In Memory of Ruth Gorman. May she rest in peace. 1981.”
My world came to a grinding halt. I was dead. DEAD! And I didn’t even remember dying in the first place! At that moment, another student came scurrying down the hall in a rush. I grabbed his shoulder desperately for an answer.
“What year is it?!” I blurted startling the poor boy. He turned and looked at me, and I felt like I had just got ran over by a truck, (might as well have since I was already dead)/ The boy was the spitting image of my sweetheart.
The boy stared at me bewildered. “Its 2011, now will you let go? I’m going to be late for my dentist appointment!” he said as he turned and walked away in a huff. I stood dumbfounded watching his back move farther and farther away.
Thirty years have passed since my death, thirty whopping years. Desperate for more answers, I chased after the boy down the hall. I saw him through the transparent door getting into a silver Hummer. The person driving was undoubtedly, Hunter Grassi, my boyfriend to the day I died.
Ironically, I felt as though my world came to an end. The one I loved was right before me, with a son! The worst part, it wasn’t my son. That kid looked about sixteen and if I was dead for thirty years it would have been impossible for him to be my son. That only left one other option, Hunter had moved on.
I had no idea whether I should be happy for him or angered with him for leaving me behind, only maybe thinking about me occasionally. I wanted to cry. I didn’t know if I could cry, being dead and all. I opened my eyes and watched the car pull away; I could feel the world fading before me.
I smiled and prayed that the mother of Hunter’s child was as brilliant as he was. I felt sadness spread through me as I looked at my fading hands. Then I looked up, determined for him to be my last sight. “Goodbye, for the final time,” I murmured softly before my world was filled with light.