Wonderbread
Chapter 1
Mickey felt lonely inside as he sat on his bed, gazing out of
the
window. The sun’s rays sent a strip of dust particles dancing around
his
head. He felt even more depressed now, as the sun seemed to be saying,
‘cheer up’. How could he? Tomorrow was the first day of his Sophomore
year. School was rough...the teasing, the wise-cracks, the cruelty. It
never stopped.
Mickey had no idea what to do, no idea how he could get
through
another year. He did not feel like the summer had revived him of an
attitude towards schoolwork, and he definitely did not have a better
attitude towards his so-called ‘fellow’ classmates.
All of a sudden, Mickey’s younger sister Caitlyn
burst
into his room. “Hey Mick...this is what I’m wearing to school tomorrow.
How’s it look? Does it clash?”. Did he care? No.
No, Caitlyn. It’s fine.”
Caitlyn skipped off merrily, her blonde pigtails
bouncing off of her shoulders.
How did she do it?
How
did she like school? Mickey thought. It was a nightmare for him. It
seemed everyone else liked school.
He slowly swung his legs over the edge of his bed, his feet
next
touching the soft, yellow carpet. He knew the answer. She didn’t have
to
deal with the pressures of her peers because she wasn’t, well, big. She
was tiny. As his mind filled with thoughts, he was headed outside to
spend
the last of his summer hours. He did not feel like he had made the best
of
his summer, but who did? Every kid tried to get out, but the summer
heat
made everyone lazy.
Once outside in the yard, Mick realized there was nothing to
do.
A driveway, and grass. No pool, no trampoline. Of course, there was the
basketball hoop. He shot a couple of balls, but realized sports just
weren’t for him. It only reminded him of being rejected from the soccer
team, which is why he had gained so much weight. Long story.
It was getting darker. He grabbed an old piece of green
sidewalk
chalk from out of the garage and began to write on the driveway:
Mickey
Parke, tougher than ever, is going back to school. Not with a fervor,
but
with defense and self-confidence. He stood back, clapped the chalk
off
of his hands, and smiled at the message.
This would be the birth of a new Mickey. No longer Michael
Alexander Parke, Jr., but Mickey Parke. No, just P. Mickey P.
“Mickey! You’re going to be late for your first day back! Get
up,
sweetie!”. Mickey groaned. He had known his mother, Anne Parke, would
soon
be yelling to him to get up once he heard her blow-dryer running. It
was a
nightmare. Could he do it? Get out of bed and face his fears? He had
to.
If he just believed in himself and took to heart what he had written on
the driveway the night before, he could do it.
Mick picked out some new clothes, walked to the bathroom, and
started the shower. “Washing away the old Mick, starting fresh.” He
chuckled, then ripped the tags off of his new clothing.
While the warm water soothed him, Mickey thought about why
kids
at school were so cruel. Just because Mickey was a little big compared
to
them, didn’t mean they had to be evil, right? Weighing twice as much as
the majority of his other peers was not easy for a kid.
After Mickey was dressed, he scooted downstairs for a quick
bowl
of Cap’n Crunch with a glass of orange juice. He glanced at the stove
clock’s digital neon numbers. Time to go. He took a deep breath, and
headed out the door.