I was five and a half and it was nearly fall when my parents decided something vital.
They had decided to put me into 1st grade instead of kindergarten. People from five to six are usually in kindergarten while seven year olds are usually in first grade.
They had told me that I was bigger than anyone my age and that the classes would be a breeze for me.
I was a little annoyed about school, but I would survive as I always had.
The worst part about school was how early I had to wake up. On typical days I woke up around Ten in the morning, but with school I would have to wake up at six in the morning.
That horrified me because it meant I would have to go to sleep four hours earlier every day. It would also mean that I would have less time to whittle my spears.
Though I wouldn be at my house much because of school, that wasn such a bad thing because my brother, Samuel, still cried though he was nearly one. My brother was truly an incessant annoyance.
In my room, I had an arsenal of spears that I had painstakingly whittled and fire hardened. I even made a little round wooden shield and had inscribed a V on the front of it.
I always slept with my hand under my pillow grasping my Bowie Knife. It was a small little action that made me comfortable. It helped me fall asleep because it was an action familiar to me from my past life.
I used my knife so much that my parents had to buy me a sharpening tool for my fifth birthday.
It was Five-thirty in the morning when my alarm went off. I was so startled by it, that I nearly sliced the little plastic box in half with my bowie knife. Fortunately I had realized what I was about to do before the deed had been done.
I jumped out of bed with adrenaline still pumping through my veins. I was awake, but my eyes were still crusty, it was a very contradictory feeling. I rubbed my eyes as I ran down the stairs that led to the kitchen.
I poured myself some cereal and milk and slurped it up quickly. I, of course, put the cereal in first.
Helen was awake and she helped me pack things into my little backpack. She put in pencils, a lunch box, and some extra money in case I was still hungry.
I had managed to put my bowie knife into my backpack without Helen noticing as I ran out the door to wait for the bus.
I waited on the school bus for ten minutes before it came and it was cold outside. So cold that I wore a black hoodie and some blue jeans.
As I entered the ugly yellow bus, the first thing I noticed was that the air was putrid. The second thing I noticed was that all of the students eyes were on me.
I ignored them and sat down in the first seat that was directly behind the bus driver, for it was the only seat left in the bus. Apparently, I was the last person to be picked up on the bus drivers route, which I found very fortunate.
Minutes after the bus rolled away from my house, my sixth sense alerted me of an incoming projectile. I turned my head around and caught the projectile with my hand so quickly, that my neck made a popping noise. I saw the perpetrator who was smiling before I had caught it. He averted his eyes quickly.
The boy was smaller than me, but from a quick observation, he had several friends beside him.
The projectile was a little piece of paper covered in saliva. I tossed the projectile back at the boy, nestling the spit covered ball in his hair.
He looked back ruefully and I spoke to him calmly:
”Remember the golden rule friend. ”
He looked away and tossed the spit ball on the floor of the bus.
I made a mental note of his face, for I would have my revenge.
Eventually, the bus stopped at the school. I had five classes: History, math, PE, writing, drawing, and science. My first class of the day was History.
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