I saw it in the music shop window and I knew that it would be mine and only mine. I bought it and took it home. Billings would love it. My god. It was so beautiful, so sleek, so smooth. Its body was a glimmering gold and I could feel the keys push down gracefully with a satisfying plop! It was the most majestic thing I had ever seen and… Oh crap. I dropped it. Down it came with a crash. I realized that I wasn’t wearing a neck-strap. As I picked my 2,000 dollar alto saxophone, I saw that it had a dent in the bell part of it. “Ooooooooh. Mom’s gonna kill you Jerome.” My little brother John said in his high-pitched voice. He was a bigger kid, even for his age, seven years old, weighing eighty-something pounds. “Go bug someone your own size,
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“What was that crash I just heard?” She looked down at the saxophone and stifled a tiny little shriek. “Does it still work?” she asked. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it does” I said, not knowing how to do anything but hold it and look at it. “It better be working because tomorrow’s your first day of middle school.” she said leaving the room. That’s right! Tomorrow is the first day of my middle school years. Hopefully I would make a good first impression because I’m probably going to ruin it. I’m not a hard worker towards anything. i don’t like work. But I love music. When dad got home from work, he was too tired to really care that I had dropped something that expensive. They always overworked him at his office job. He was so bored out of his mind, mom tried to get him to quit and have him get another job, but he refused. He always said that he needed to put food on the table and keep the house running. That was the end of the conversation. “You hungry sweetie?” my mom called as he went down the hallway to their bedroom. “No thanks. I already had some food at the McDonald's at Walmart.” he said …show more content…
. . . . “Hey, turd.” That was my wake-up call. No gentle shake from mom, no ‘Honey school starts in an hour’.
A punch in the shoulder and a pinch on the cheek was all I got from John. I looked at my clock and saw it read seven-forty-five in the red digital numbers. School started at eight-fifteen on the dot. I didn’t want to be late my first day. I jumped out of bed, changed clothes, ran to the kitchen, inhaled breakfast and got on the bus just in time. When I got to WHMS I’d forgotten how big it was. It’s a huge block building with a ginormous courtyard and gym to match. I went into the building and saw tall seventh and eighth graders in groups. I walked straight ahead, not looking at anyone, and marched to homeroom. I realized that she was a jerk. In fact I didn’t like any of the teachers, except the exploratory teachers. My shop teacher, Mr. Williams, had a sharp wit, was a well-liked person throughout the school apparently and roasted a kid who talked back to him. But my last period teacher was my favorite. Mr. Billings was an overweight, bald middle age man that had a sense of opera to him. But I realized my guess was wrong because he pulled out a trumpet and started playing
“What was that crash I just heard?” She looked down at the saxophone and stifled a tiny little shriek. “Does it still work?” she asked. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it does” I said, not knowing how to do anything but hold it and look at it. “It better be working because tomorrow’s your first day of middle school.” she said leaving the room. That’s right! Tomorrow is the first day of my middle school years. Hopefully I would make a good first impression because I’m probably going to ruin it. I’m not a hard worker towards anything. i don’t like work. But I love music. When dad got home from work, he was too tired to really care that I had dropped something that expensive. They always overworked him at his office job. He was so bored out of his mind, mom tried to get him to quit and have him get another job, but he refused. He always said that he needed to put food on the table and keep the house running. That was the end of the conversation. “You hungry sweetie?” my mom called as he went down the hallway to their bedroom. “No thanks. I already had some food at the McDonald's at Walmart.” he said …show more content…
. . . . “Hey, turd.” That was my wake-up call. No gentle shake from mom, no ‘Honey school starts in an hour’.
A punch in the shoulder and a pinch on the cheek was all I got from John. I looked at my clock and saw it read seven-forty-five in the red digital numbers. School started at eight-fifteen on the dot. I didn’t want to be late my first day. I jumped out of bed, changed clothes, ran to the kitchen, inhaled breakfast and got on the bus just in time. When I got to WHMS I’d forgotten how big it was. It’s a huge block building with a ginormous courtyard and gym to match. I went into the building and saw tall seventh and eighth graders in groups. I walked straight ahead, not looking at anyone, and marched to homeroom. I realized that she was a jerk. In fact I didn’t like any of the teachers, except the exploratory teachers. My shop teacher, Mr. Williams, had a sharp wit, was a well-liked person throughout the school apparently and roasted a kid who talked back to him. But my last period teacher was my favorite. Mr. Billings was an overweight, bald middle age man that had a sense of opera to him. But I realized my guess was wrong because he pulled out a trumpet and started playing