www.whyville.net Feb 3, 2013 Weekly Issue



HotTrent1
Guest Writer

Military Son: Part 6

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School dragged on from day to day, week to week, and month to month. I was silently waiting for the day that I got to see my father again. Florida had standardized testing coming up. The day was the beginning of March, on Thursday. I was one day closer to seeing Dad. The Florida Comprehension Assessment Test was coming soon. It'd be here after the spring break, after I see my father. The writing portion of the FCAT was coming to a final stop that day. For some reason, the writing portion of the test came before every portion. Eighth grade was the only grade in middle school that got the writing and science portion of the FCAT.

I walked into my first period class and sat in my assigned seat. My Algebra teacher was required to read a passage telling us students what were supposed to do. She passed out number two pencils and little pamphlets that told us what to write on and what to write about. The topic was about bullying, and what you think about it. I wrote a full length essay that explained every detail that slithered throughout my mind. It was a disgusting topic that I never like to talk, because I could go on and on about my enmity for it. Sadly, I only had forty-five minutes to describe how I felt. With five minutes left to go, I put my pencil on my desk and revised my essay. It was a decent writing. We were all told that the people scoring the FCAT would grade on a much stricter scale that year.

My teacher took up the papers as stopwatch struck zero. I looked around to see scared faces looking at their writing right before my teacher took the papers up. We all silently chatted until the bell for third period started. Eight graders skipped all of second period because of the testing.

The rest of the day was quick and easy. Eighth graders didn't do much because of the testing that day. I got home and did my homework like the usual.

I woke up the next day to the simple routine of my school day. I did so for the next week and a half. The last few days before spring break, the last few days before I got to see my dad, school was relaxed. Hardly anyone was there because nothing was going on in the few days and everyone just wanted to end the break sooner.

It was Friday, March 16. I got home and threw my bags down in my room. There was no homework! That was a first in a very long time. I emitted a gigantic sigh of relief as I flopped onto the couch. After watching some shows, I left to get a drink of water. I noticed writing on the small whiteboard on the refrigerator. "Clean your room and load up for your week off!" I got to see dad over the break. It'd be quite relaxing to be away from my brothers and especially my stepfather. My stepfather and I had this unexplainable hatred for each other.

I packed up my bags and cleaned my room half way decently. I waited for everyone else to get home. They were already packed up and ready to go. They just needed me. We threw the bags into trunks and set up the DVD player. It was five o'clock in the afternoon as we headed out to Montgomery, Alabama.

The drive took about four hours, which included all stops. We walked up to my grandmother's door as she greeted us in. We set our luggage in our rooms and got ready to go to bed. I watched television most of the night because I was too anxious to sleep. I'd be seeing him at his friend's family's house, where we'd be staying, the next day. I finally got my body to sleep for a measly four hours.

I got up at eight o'clock to find myself in a rush of children and adults getting ready to visit other family. The place where I'd be staying is in the same neighborhood as my stepfather's mother. As my family pulled into the neighborhood, they veered right, instead of straight. They pulled into the cul-de-sac where I'd be spending my nights over the break. I saw the house that I'd be seeing. It would be hard to miss. It was three stories and wide. I saw my father's car. It was a tan, four door, Tahoe. Right as the car stopped, I jumped out of my seat to grab my suitcases. I saw my dad and stepmother walk out of the house and onto the porch. I gave my mother a simple hug and rolled my bags onto the lively porch to greet my other family.

 

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