Hello, Sun
Beeping. Perpetual, insistent beeping. The alarm doesn't usually wake me up right away, but the lack of light streaming through my window tells me that this isn't the usual 'three alarms and an urgent don't be late! text later' alarm. This is the very first one I set last night. It is only 6 am. I groggily silence the incessant thing, roll over, and yank my comforter over my head. It's silent. It's still a little dark. Sleep takes me.
Beeping.
I throw the covers off of me, fumble with my phone to shut the alarm up, and shamble my way to the bathroom. It's now 7 am. I brush my teeth, wrestle my hair into submission as best I can, pop in my contacts, and hastily change clothes. From the smell of it, my mom won't notice I was nearly late again. There's no food-smells wafting through the air, nor is their the soft sound of early morning news bouncing tentatively around the walls. No... There is none of that. She'd seemed sick last night. I suppose she slept in. C'est la vie, as they say.
I lock the door behind me and make my way to the bus stop. There are no kids in sight, which is bad. The bus must've come early. I'd rather wait around a while than deal with an angry and sick mother, though. I set my bag down, pull out a book- The Singular Universe and the Reality of Time, by Roberto Mangabeira.
After nearly an hour of silent reading, I take a look at my surroundings. No bus, and no sun, either. It's hidden behind layers of clouds. Fantastic. An oncoming storm to really put the nail named misery in this day's coffin. I hesitate a few moments more, gazing up to where I feel the sun should be. It is not there. Or, rather, it is not visible there. Finally, with a sigh, I slide my book back into my bag, heave the bag onto my shoulder, and trudge back home.
Fat droplets of water begin smacking into my arms and face. The road is painted a darker shade of black as the droplets intensify. I gaze over at one of my neighbors' cars- there are dozens of cars to pick from, but for some reason, this one draws the eye most- and stare at myself through the glass of the windshields. I look sad. Why do I always look so sad? I shift my gaze up to the neighbor's house. It, too, looks sad. The grass is overgrown in odd places. The garden is dead. I wonder if the neighbor might be dead, too.
Not literally- I'd seen them just a few days ago, walking an old and gray haired dog- but figuratively. Dead on the inside, the way I feel most of the time. I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. Statistically, it's impossible; billions of people on Earth, plenty of them in poverty, in worse circumstances than me. It's probable that everyone alive feels this... Alone.
As I open the door to my house, a bright flash of lightening casts away all the shadows around me. I stand in the doorway gazing in, waiting. There is an earth shaking boom as thunder claps up above. The interior of my house shakes a little. I step inside and close the door behind me,
"Mom," I call out, "I uh... I missed the bus... Again..."
No answer. No food smells. No news sounds.
I arrived home yesterday with a report card filled to the brim with grades that were just barely passing. Chemistry, Algebra 2, Culinary, and Engineering- all things I was either terrible at or held no interest in. Reluctantly, I slid the paper over to my mother, then braced myself for a scolding.
"You're smart, Arron! You're stupidly smart, but you keep bringing home this-this-this garbage! Your test scores are so fantastic but you can't do your damn homework?! Why!?"
"Because," I'd said, cheeks red, "I-I-I don't... It just doesn't... I don't know..."
"You don't know!? These things take five minutes! God... You'll never get into a good college without the right grades... You're so damn smart, but you're so..."
"So what? Moronic? Lazy? Pathetic? I bet you wish I were smarter, right? You think I'm too stupid to know when I fucked something up!?" I was furious, frustrated, flustered- years of this pressure just bursted up, boiled right out of me. "I bet you think I'm a cheater or something, right? That I'm a fucking idiot? It doesn't matter that I'm your kid, you just wish I was the smartest person on this planet, right?" I snatched my bag off the table and stomped up stairs, but not fast enough.
"Yeah," she hissed, "I wish you were the smartest person on Earth so you'd see just how grounded your ass is about to be!"
That was yesterday. Today, I'm standing in the doorway to my mom's room. Her bed is mussed as if she'd gotten under the covers, but there's no sign of her getting up. This is a fact- yet she is nowhere to be found. I set my bag down, make my way downstairs, open the front door, and walk outside. I keep walking until I am in the middle of my street. The rain is stopping, and now, all is silent. I close my eyes, hold my breath, and listen intently.
I hear nothing, save for bugs and birds and barking dogs.
I check my phone. There are no texts. No buzzes. Not even notifications, save for three automated ones from various apps.
And then, finally, I look up and around. My heart is hammering in my chest, my guts are wrenching themselves, as a frozen, dreadful finger plunges itself into my spine, rends my flesh in a way I've never known before. The sun is finally peaking out from behind the clouds, but its warmth does nothing to ease my reality's burden.
All of my neighbors stayed home today.