Underachievers

The sound of gun shots ringing in the distance jolted me from a fitful sleep, for some people they would only hear that deafening sound in their dreams but for me it was reality, my personal alarm clock. I brushed my teeth and donned a black hoodie that had a gaping hole in the side. The smell of eggs and bacon was wafting in the air, cooking was the only thing my foster mother, Maria did for me. “Yow Jordan, get your butt down here u no good low life!” she bellowed. Descending the creaky stairs two at a time, I grabbed a Ziploc bag and threw my breakfast in it. “Good morning to you too!” said Maria. “Morning mom.” I mumbled, while heading towards the door. God knows how much I hate that witch. My battered, grey BMX bicycle laid waiting on the porch for me. I took off at top speed; almost as if I was at war with the wind, only thing was that I craved the feeling of it beating against me. I just wanted to hit somebody, anybody. Finally I reached my school, Rhodes Hall High stood three storey high, taunting me with the red dragon emblem at the front, the motto,’every child can learn, every child must learn’ at the helm. Every time I saw it I scoffed, why learn when I am never getting out of this rat-hole anyways. I sauntered up the pathway to the school’s main hall, with my head up and my best menacing glare pasted on my face, the freshmen were already scampering away. I was about half an hour late and just when I thought my tardiness would go unnoticed my worst nightmare came strutting down the hall, Mr. Morris. He was dressed in a long black overcoat with a contradicting bright yellow tie swinging from his neck. He gave me a smug, ‘I caught you and there is nothing you can do about it look’. “Chuck, why are you so late!”, he barked sending spittle flying across my face. “Sir umm, your wife had me busy”, I countered. “Detention Jordan Chuck, this evening my office!” he shrieked. Great, I just seem to attract trouble everywhere I turn but old man Morris had it