I drag my feet to the room in which I'm staying in. After I silently close the door, I slump into my bed. I lie there . . . I just lie there . . . I bury my face into the pillow. I slip into a treacherous land of slumbers, where my mind can create the most disturbing images that it can.
After waking up from nightmares, I find a clock to inform me that it is five o'clock in the evening. I've slept for around seven hours. I stumble upwards and into the kitchen to find some food. After snacking on some leftover pizza, I go back to the room and bury myself in my readings. I silently read "The Hunger Games". I read as Katniss runs away from the Cornucopia as the Games started. After reading Everdeen's fight for survival, I lay my head to rest at one in the morning.
I awake to my grandmother shaking me gently. I get up and get ready for the trip back to Florida. I trudge to the front door, waiting for my mother to take me away. The time comes at eight o'clock in the morning. I silently watch the house fade away from my sight.
The trip takes a few hours. I get home, take a shower, and go to bed. I don't want to bother with unpacking. After slipping into sleep, I am abruptly awoken by my alarm clock. I quickly find the "off" button and drag myself out of bed. It was time for school.
We practically have nothing to do other than practice for the FCAT. After a few weeks, they come. The math portion seemed extremely easy. The science was decent. The reading was okay. The reading portion of the testing is the worse because the tests never have anything interesting to me. The rest of school year should be a breeze. We practically have nothing to do other than final exams for Algebra 1 Honors.
My father and I keep in touch by e-mail. He can only e-mail every couple of weeks or so. I hate that I have to wait so long for a reply, but at least I still get to talk to him. I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't get to keep in touch with him. I imagine that I'd be scared to death his whole deployment if that was the case.
A few weeks pass and we took that. After a few days of waiting, I found my test grade to be an eighty-nine. The only thin to look forward to was graduating out of the treacherous middle school.
I dress in a blue button-up shirt. The shirt was tucked in a pair of khaki pants, a black belt holding it in place. My dress shoes matched my belt. I fix my black tie to make it look presentable. I'm tempted to untuck my shirt, fold the sleeves up to my elbows, and switch into my khaki shorts. It's hot outside, like typical Florida summers. I decide against it to prevent an argument between the family. I walk into the living room, presenting myself to my family. They say I look good, like they are obliged to say so.
Mom takes me to the school. Our ceremony will be mostly awards and a certificate congratulating us on passing middle school and going into high school. The ceremony takes up four hours of others performing, giving out awards, and speeches. I was presented with a few awards. I got a medal for having A's and B's throughout the whole year. I got a few certificates from some of my teachers for being one of their top students. Then it came down to a prize that my heart desired. It was the Principal's Award. It isn't the top award. About ten students receive it each year for being involved academically and throughout clubs. As each name was called, my spirit went down. The principal calls the seventh name. Then she calls my name. I grin and walk up to the platform and let the principal set the medallion on my neck. Each recipient of the prize stand next to her to form a group picture. I walk back to my seat and then we are dismissed to leave the middle school. I greet my mother and stepfather. We leave for lunch and then home.
After changing into comfortable shorts and a t-shirt, I check my e-mail for a reply from my dad. I haven't heard from him in about a month. I've been getting a little worried. I haven't heard anything on the news, which I have been keeping a close ear out for since Dad's deployment. Could something have happened to him that I haven't heard about . . .?
