This story could start like all stories do, with a ‘once upon a time,’ but that wasn’t very original and was far over used. Sort of like this beginning that is saying how ‘once upon a time’ is over used. I churned this over in my mind again. It was much easier to think about than what I’d have to face. If I were in a story who would I be, protagonist, antagonist or the best friend? What would people think of me? How would I be described? Would I be famous? Could my life was turned into a movie based off the book? What if I was in a book now and my thoughts were all words on a blank page? A loud slam brought me back to reality. It was my Mom, she was heading to me, the only thing worse than her anger was the disappointment on her face. The anger was also pretty bad. As she headed to the car I suddenly realized sitting in the front seats was a bad idea. My mother pulled the door open, slid into the driver’s seat and closed the door again.

She put the keys into the ignition and without evening turning to me she snarls, “Congratulations. You finally got what you wanted.” She carefully backed out of the parking lot. “Suspended. Again.” She turns to me as we reach a stop sign, “What is it with you? You miss class, never do your homework and talk back to the teacher! Why? Are you having troubles in school? Talk to me!” Her last question was more of a demand really as she swerved through corners.

“No Mom.”  I mutter, looking down at my beaten up sneakers.

“Speak up!”

“I said, no Mom! I just… don’t see the point of it. I mean, how is learning about King Louis XIV gonna actually help me in life? I’d rather do better things.” I say this and realize that no, Mom would not understand at all, only Dad would.

“Oh really? You need to go to school and get a college education. No one will want to hire you and pay you. You’re in high school now. You can’t be fooling around like this anymore. Colleges are going to be looking at your grades and your work.” It seemed like every other word my mom said now a days was “college”. What’s so special about a big school that costs a lot of money?

“Dad would let me drop out if I wanted to.” I said under my breath. I could tell she heard though, ‘cause she got really quiet and every second felt like an hour. It was only last year that Dad had left us for some chick he met at the supermarket. He hardly said bye to me. He gave me a pat on the head and told me some garbage about how “people change.” And then was gone. It hurt Mom real bad, and I knew the second I said that I had crossed the forbidden line.

“Fine, you want to bring your father into this? That deadbeat lived up to nothing, and he’s your role model. Just great.” She snapped. Swallowing down all and any of the pain he left behind for us. I had a feeling that our talk was over, so I didn’t reply and instead looked out the window.

We live in Maine, the most dreariest and wet states. No one knows about Maine until it is lobster season. But other than that, we lived near the ocean and most of the money people got was from tourism. Mom works as a dentist and Dad is a fisher. Or at least he was.