My eyes open and it almost feels like they just hatched out of an eggshell. I pull out my retainers, brush my teeth, and I lazily put on my clothes. Of course, before I leave the house I need to eat my usual bland omelet. I unwillingly put each little cut piece, into my mouth. At 6:50 I enter the car, and slowly I become vigilant enough to speak to my dad. Once we finally arrive at my bus stop at my meager and beastly elementary school, I drag myself out of the car and towards the bus. As I stomp and grunt through the aisle, I give the giggly and smiley students a dirty look. When I reach my damaged seat I plunge down, and I insert my ear buds into my ears, establishing a forlorn appearance. Each student that passes by my row, avoids sitting
