Late

Alli Hinchliffe

I am already lifeless at six am, 6:05 to be exact. Five minutes late. Five minutes past schedule and the anxiety from the absence of those precious five minutes swells in the back of my throat. No time to spare, my teeth should have been brushed by now, but I am five minutes behind schedule. Teeth brushed, hair neglected, makeup half way there but not quite yet. One, two, three, strokes of mascara, one, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three.

“Peyton, don’t forget your morning pills!” I hear the shrill of my tired mother’s voice from the crack between the door and the noticeably dusty crown molding. Well it was noticeable to me anyways. Thank God she reminds me of my pills every morning. Between being seven minutes late today and the haunting image of that dusty crown molding, her precious pills are the last thing on my mind throughout the chaos that is my Monday morning. Four pills laid on my counter, the biggest pill is third inline which I quickly rearrange. My mom should know better than that. Counting, one, two, three, I take the pills, leaving the fourth as usual. Rushing out the door, I click the garage clicker one, two, three times and pull out of the garage at exactly 7:00am. Exactly five minutes past schedule! “LEAVE THE GARAGE AT 6:55AM” I can hear myself repeat over and over and over again, the voice of my mind screamed it at me, making my head pulsate. Although I am late I can’t help but to count every single tree on my way to school, and this morning something is wrong. There are always twenty-seven trees on the left side of Robinson Drive, and today there are twenty-six. Or maybe I miscounted. I really did try to turn left on Mason Avenue considering I’m a generous ten minutes late, but that same creaming voice forced my wheel to make a u-turn to recount the trees. “THERE ARE ALWAYS 27 TREES,” plays like a broken record in my mind until I make my way back down Robinson Drive. Twenty-seven trees it is and I make my left turn.

I count one, two, three, one, two three cars ahead of mine. Six cars to the light at 7:15am. Anticipating the light to change from that piercing red glow to a beautiful green, my mind wanders back to my bedroom, a room of clutter. A room I may vacuum every three days, but never satisfies inspection. A room whose clothes have not been color-coordinated in 24 days. A room that is so mediocre that it had made me forget that beautiful shade of green until it stung me in they eye, relieving me from the nightmare that is my bedroom. My foot taps the gas as I head forward.

Frantic as ever due to my 7:25am arrival, I am a fast walking Olympian through the halls of Ridgeway High School. I can feel every eye in the hall glued to my skin. What was wrong with me? Did I forget a step in my morning routine? The questions chase me down the hallway right to my class. Nearly falling into my seat, breathless and head throbbing, the first period bell revives me with the sound of its three beautiful chimes. Ding, ding, ding.

Smoke and Ribbons

Gianna Ramos