In a House with Broken Windows: Chapter 6 | Teen Ink

In a House with Broken Windows: Chapter 6

December 22, 2009
By Ian15 BRONZE, Sammamish, Washington
Ian15 BRONZE, Sammamish, Washington
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Tonight was Homecoming. I woke up anxious and exhausted and having some second thoughts about this whole thing. Will it really be all that fun for someone like me? I could just go hang out with Tyler…But no. I had to call up Jenny to get info on where to go and when to be there. She said we were meeting at Matt’s house which brightened me up immediately. I hadn’t seen him at all this year! I had 6 hours to kill so I went out for a walk around my autumn induced neighborhood and had a cigarette. I didn’t much like cigs I just liked having something there. So many colors swarm your vision in autumn just as Tyler had described ecstasy to do. If it was anything like autumn then it can’t be all too bad. It was very moist this particular morning and leaves were sticking to my shoes every other step like toilet paper to people in the movies. Worms were sprawled out across the sidewalk’s pavement as they had been washed out of their grass sanctuaries. I always threw them back in I didn’t like the idea that they were going to either get crushed or slowly die right there. It’s a goofy animal anyways we might as well keep them alive. I turned down the main street of my neighborhood and approached the neighborhood park and sat down on the swing. As I rocked back and forth slowly with a Marbolo No. 27 dangling out of my mouth like I was some kind of John Wayne cowboy like figure I thought back to my younger days on this playtoy. It had been much different before. It was wood with rubber all around it for safety but now it’s a whole bunch of metal and plastic with woodchips on the ground that really aren’t too cushioning. It made me wonder what it’d be like to be my parent’s age. So much has changed since they were kids it’s incredible. Will my generation experience such phenomena’s like that? It’s hard to imagine that being possible with how far we’ve gotten throughout history as of now. It really seems like we can do anything that is even remotely possible.
The chorus of Subtle Body by These Arms Are Snakes looped in my mind but I couldn’t catch why. Must’ve fallen asleep to them. They’re another band I really enjoy they’re very strange and I like that about them. I saw them once and the singer was spitting all over himself and hiding under the stage and such. The line that really stuck in my head right now says, “I always took the strange way, it never seemed strange to me.” I feel like this was addressed to me. I’m sure a lot of people have thought that way about it too but I think it’s just something stuck in my head and that’s it. I put out my cig and continued my walk. I walked down the street about two blocks and then took a left up to my old elementary school. I’ve come here a lot since I left it and just reminisced on all aspects of my life. I’ve done a lot at this school and sometimes I miss it and sometimes I don’t. I walked past my Kindergarten classroom and it hit me that I’m about to go to my first high school dance tonight. I have a vivid memory as if it were yesterday where I was standing outside of this classroom crying as I watched my mom drive away after she dropped me off when I was 4 or 5. I said earlier I’m very sentimental and it really is true I am. About 20 or 30 feet to the right of the door (if you’re looking straight at it from the outside) is where I got my first kiss in 5th grade. I remember my whole grade was watching in anticipation as we all scattered behind a miniature concrete wall so me and my “girlfriend” could kiss and then disappear back in the playgrounds. I broke my leg on those playgrounds, I’ve got in fights on those playgrounds, I’ve done drugs on those playgrounds, I’ve pretty much utilized it’s every use and more. I strolled around back and passed through the dead wastelands of basketball courts and tetherball posts. I completed a hopscotch route on my way through it and smiled at how stupid of an idea that game is but how I used to play it a lot. The parking lot had one car in it but I don’t know who besides me would be here at 11 on a Saturday. Janitor probably. I joined back into the streets of my neighborhood and began my march back home. I lit up another cig and kind of just let it sit in my fingers on the way home. Like I said earlier or at least I think I said this, I don’t like cigarettes much anyways. I passed houses and spied in on them through their windows. I liked being that creep and placing myself in someone else’s shoes. Pretending I could just change my living situation for a little bit. My grandpa lives in this same neighborhood so I often see him and my grandma. I work for them when I’m desperate for money, they’re my dad’s parents and I love them very much even if I avoid confrontation with them. I’ve just got a fast paced life that doesn’t want to stop for a slow paced discussion about his flowers or the army. On these streets the houses are so close to true nature. Trees hang over houses like gazebos in the sky. It makes me sad that we’ve probably really messed up some innocent animal’s lives and the future of people by creating the amount of houses we have and where we’ve placed them but at least I like to feel like I can be in touch with nature when I want to be. I put out this second waste of a cig and got to the top of the hill I live on and took a second before I went into my house so I could rid of the smell. I popped inside without saying a word and went and got a cup of coffee. I’m not supposed to drink caffeine because of my bipolar but it’s too good. It does make me all anxious and paranoid though so parts of it do suck. I took that upstairs and grabbed a guitar and started playing some music about life and death. I used it metaphorically however for the situation I was in now, being “that kid” to going to a dance with a fairly popular and pretty girl. The whole idea of polar opposites I suppose. I loved dousing myself in music and letting it lead my emotions out of my head freely.
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The next few hours I fell asleep. My mom came in my door and woke me up frustrated at the fact I had fallen asleep. Always so pissy to me about naps. I stretched my eyes widely to stay awake and stood up as soon as possible so I didn’t fall asleep again; I had something real to do tonight for once! I pulled out all the clothes I had purchase to look nice for Megan tonight then hopped in the shower to fix my hair and keep me from smelling like a coffee barista addicted to cigarettes. For one of the first times in my life I didn’t just throw on my clothes and get out the door. My mom was ironing my shirt and tie while I put my pants on in a comfortable and at least remotely stylish way. My shoes were new and shiny black synthetic leather with real leather laces. I took the still warm black button-up shirt off the ironing board and lined up the buttons to the zipper of my pants and tucked it in. I felt like I had a deflated parachute in my pants, it sucked. My dad stayed around to watch me get all dressed up for the dance and to drive me there and meet my date and all their parents. It might make me look even gayer to the cool kids but my dad should get out sometime. He strangled me with the tie and twisted all it’s loops and knots for me until I had a fresh straight and clean silk black tie. I’d look like Johnny Cash if I slicked my hair back and flipped off a camera. Finally I slid on my first tuxedo jacket, the one with the pinstripes and looked at myself in the mirror. And just stared. Just stared. In this moment I was daddy’s special prize and mommy’s little angel. I was the baseball star I passed up, the football player who has to much ***** to go around that he doesn’t know what to do with it, the talkative, smart, honor-society president and innovative kind of trophy child every parent dreams of. Society’s ideal fit for an adolescent/developing teenager. It sickened me not because it wasn’t like me but because somehow it was. I felt protected in these shades of black, bold and confident clothes. After a fresh shower and a break from dirt and beer stained Nirvana shirts I could really fit in. But **** it I don’t want that. I had to pull my eyes from the mirror after a good 30 seconds of unresponsiveness to my parents constant nagging that we had to leave right now to get to Matt’s in time. I took one more glance at the mirror and an urge to cry swarmed into my blood but I refrained. It’s time to be a man. I got in my mom’s Honda Odyssey and backed out of my driveway in the back seat.

The author's comments:
I am writing a novel for a school project. Here is a sample chapter from the book. The book is about a high school student and his experiences. This particular chapter is about his experience at Homecoming. I am hoping for some feedback to help me move forward with my writing.

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