Chapter 1: Girls and Gifts (A Short Intro)

Opening my eyes, I looked down to see that I had fallen asleep in the bathtub again.
I looked down at my fingers and realized that they were incredibly wrinkly and somewhat resembled that Starry Night picture by Van Gough. It was 7:10 a.m and I had to be at the bus stop by 7:50, so I got out of the tub and got ready. In the mirror, my hair was wet and flat, but I managed to dry it and put my bangs right above my eyebrows. I put on my glasses, black with thick frames, green cargo pants, and a black punisher shit on.
This was me, every single day, getting ready for school. I don’t know why I spent so much time on appearance, but I did. Yet every day, I came out looking the same. And every day I walked into school and every day my messenger bag got abused (ol’ faithful smacked into a doorway today).
And then I sit in the classroom (ten minutes early) and I draw. But today, I realized there was something I forgot to do, A deeply rooted trait from the past. I forgot how to be simple
Reflecting back to first grade, I thought of the sentence structure and how every little kid talked-short but gratifying. For example, for an interview assignment I had when I was little, I wrote about myself and it just read:
“Hi my name is Brandon Divide. I like Cats and live with my mom and dad.”
And like that I was done. No extravagant details or droning sentences of why, just the facts. Your teacher would tell you that the sentence isn’t enough about the subject, but I think that’s all you need. My theory is all you have to state is your name, things you like, and your situation.
So hi, my name is Brandon Lee Divide and for no reason, I hate my last name and my mom, but my dad died(I’ll explain later) and I stopped liking cats due to a terrible scratch given to me by a minks. And I’m sixteen now.
And about what I like, it’s a who and her names Autumn.
Autumn Ashley Roswell is in my class. She is deathly pale and has a hobby for reading, writing love notes in the form of poetry, chewing her fingernails, and humming like an angel when she thought nobody paid attention.
But I seemed to get her every time. Autumn was a dark eye shadow kind of girls so it was no wonder why we didn’t talk. I was a bit of a geek and spent all my time sketching various things. It seemed with my always active imagination, I didn’t have time to be social. Nonetheless sometimes I wish I could be, but it’s only a dream that I never could reach.
But that was too complex; I’m shooting for simplicity here.
Class is starting and thank god its art. I pulled out my messenger bag . It was a gift from my father while he was still alive.
Inside of the sketch pad, one picture remained my favorite- him smiling, using ol pastels as my median; it was the best piece I’ve ever made.