English Podcast Take 1

The speaker describes their morning routine, getting ready for school and taking the bus. They go to their music class and then art class, where they help their teacher with some tasks. They also mention spending time in the library and feeling tired and disinterested in their statistics class. Alarm going into my ear and pulling off an already restless sleep back into reality. Growing, turning off my first alarm, I slip back over for five more minutes. Grabbing my pen under my pillow, a zero small hint, still out of bed. I took on some jeans, a queen tee, and a hoodie from a cross-country meet last year. Tying my converse under my wallet, keys, phone, charger, pen, and granola bars in my backpack. Tossing it over my shoulder as I stumble to the bathroom. Dragging my eyeliner across my lower lash line, I groan as I look in the mirror. Not bearing a look at myself properly, I hurriedly apply eyeliner to the other eye. Smudge-proof, grab my mascara and trap it so I can drag myself downstairs, avoiding the mirror at the bottom. In the kitchen, I grab an apple with my water bottle, knowing that I probably won't eat much more than that today. A familiar trot of haws walking down the hallway, I consider the house friendly. They call out, haws, come here buddy, urging him outside. Going a little behind them, I toss my backpack onto the couch and slump down beside them. Tugging my phone from my pocket as I slip, no lock. I take another hint as I pull my headphones from around my neck over my ears and open TikTok. I glance at the time, shit, it's 6.45, not 6, I gotta go. The bus grumbles and squeals to a stop, doors opening in front of Andrew. Falling close behind my sister, I pull my way to the back of the bus, grabbing at the top of the seats next to me. Swing myself into the seat after my bag, I collapse, holding my pen in my sleeve in a zero hit and tug my headphones back over my ears. Pressing play on my music, I dissolve into the hollow screens echoing in the song. Hey, Jacob says, jolting me out of my daze. Pointing up at the red button above me, I realize, the buzzer's going off. Shit, sorry, I explain under my breath as I press the button for a few seconds. Glancing around me, everyone else is around me too, so I take another hint and swim back out. As the doors open and the bus exhales, I pull myself to my feet slowly, swinging my bag over my shoulder. Leaning on the bus for support, I barely tap my fingers to the beat of my Kimoko room at the song I'm listening to. Patting down the aisle after, what's it say? My eyes barely open in the pink and yellow painted morning light. I'm starting that over, okay. As the doors open and the bus exhales, I pull myself to my feet slowly, swinging my bag over my shoulder. Leaning on the bus for support, I barely tap my fingers to the beat of my Kimoko room at the song I'm listening to. Patting down the aisle after, whatever his name is, my eyes barely open in the pink and yellow painted morning light. Bobbing my head lazily as I drop down the stairs, staying quiet, having a day on my bus driver before I step out. Glancing down both sides of the sidewalk, I hang left towards the high school. I shoot a dirty look at a tiny notebook as it gets in my way and continue stomping down the sidewalk towards the front door. Pushing my way through the swarm of nominfied teenagers at the door as I hang a right straight towards the music point. Morning with a minus. I smile, feigning cheerfulness. I have to be. Good morning, Audie. Do you want to do warm-ups this morning? Sure. Sighing under my breath, I drop my bag next to the chair and head to the bathroom. Sure. Sighing under my breath, I drop my bag next to the chair and head to the bathroom. Go, dear, go, go, go, Miracle. And warm-ups begin. Glancing at the tiny blotches of blood, starting to shave my jeans and my hips, I press down on this blanket, sucking in a cold breath. It's quite a long smooth as ever. This is when I've always had the control over her first period students. Melting the familiarity of her warm-ups, I've been doing the same warm-ups almost four years now, and this year, twice a day, if not more, on voice-up days. Have a seat and say hello to your neighbor, I shout, hopping up to my seat at the top row. As most of my mind takes over, I start to fade out, letting my voice carry below the rest of the section, riding the familiar rise and fall of the music. The edges of my vision blur, I fade into my in-between. My body goes on autopilot, my brain fades into a deep daydream. As the belt is off, I'm thrown back into reality, shoving my folders and water bottle into my backpack. I toss it over my shoulder and hop down the rises, dragging myself out the door I've grown. Fucking Eton. Tugging my headphones back over my ears, I blast it falling in reverse. My steps and breath falling in rhythm with the beat of the music, I greet my teacher inside of my seat. Tossing my bag against the desk behind me, I bend over, digging at my notebook, pens, a snack, and my Chromebook. My head still buried in my bag, I sneak another hit and climb back into my seat. Starting a duel, I pick up my apple and set it back down three times. There's a nausea waving over me with even a thought of eating. Hearing the ball ring, I look up at my teacher, begging for my mind to pay attention just once. I spend the entire class period building out stone, picking at a scab and bumps on my face and scalp. Dragging myself out of my seat, I head to my study hall, praying I can go to Ms. Carpenter's room. Starting passing other students in the hall, I push into Ms. Kessel's room. Can I go? I start before quickly being raved off and interrupted by Ms. Kessel. Art? Yes. Hurrying off to visit my other favorite teacher, I stand into the music blasting, probably too loudly in my ears. Ms. Carpenter! I'm here! I shout into the empty room, hearing my voice echo off the board of Art Supply. Audie! I didn't know you were coming this morning. Ms. Carpenter calls out from behind her desk, popping her head out from beneath where she keeps all her snacks. I mean, neither, I shrug. I didn't have any work to do, so I decided I'd see if you had anything for me to do. Taking a breath, I look around in the room, noticing our oil painting displayed above the radiator. Absent of my mom, we're gesturing vaguely toward the art pieces. The studio kids have finished their project. What do you think? The dog carries me out of my hyper-filthy. Oh, shit! I hope I got something today. I'm better. I'm trying to get the graphite astronaut to throw a new form in front of me. Just then, Ms. Carpenter calls my name from down the hall. Hopping on my feet, I stroll out of the classroom and into the classroom next door. Over here, Audie! She calls out from behind the desk. Can you help me carry some of these? Of course. I start grabbing three of the boxes from behind the desk. Carrying them into her classroom, I stack them in the back of the classroom. Carrying them into her classroom, I stack them in the back of the room where she instructs, before collecting my supplies and setting my feet flat, sneaking the other head or two through my sleeve. I settle into the comfortable chaos of the art room. Licking my brush, I fall back into my painting, the sound of the outside world falling upon my own hearing ears. After calling out my goodbyes to Ms. Carpenter, I walk McKenna to her next class, threading line. Sliding into a gap, and before I head to class, I pull the blade independent of my faucet. I slip through all of them and head to my next class. Yelling, I nibble the blade back into my eye. Pushing out of my seat and throwing my bag over my shoulder, I push out the door and down the hall towards the music room. Hi, Mrs. Mertes! I call out, pushing through the heavy double doors into the quiet room. Hello again, Audie. And welcome! Audie! Hey, Jordan! Audie! I gotta tell you about quarreling this weekend. I got to see Emma again, too! Ooh, yes. Tell me everything. I plop my bag down next to my chair and pull out my folder, turning my face toward him. Don't you look so funny, Fredo! Ready? Go! Don't you look so funny, Fredo! And once again. Running through the familiar exercises, I drift back into the uncomfortable numbness enveloping most of my mind and body. All right, we're done for today. Go ahead and pack up. The bell's about to ring. Practice your music tonight! Mrs. Mertes called out to us, welcoming the chatter. I turned to Jordan, asking if she had lunch today or not. Not today. I've got snacks, too. Of course you did. Here, have some goldfish. And I've got two crunchy granola bars. And also an apple. What do you want? The goldfish and the chocolate granola bar, please. Thank you, Audie! Can I have a sip of your water, too? Of course! She hands my water bottle back to me. The bell rings. Everyone shoves the rest of their things from their bags and makes their way out the door. Jordan and I head to the English room, gossiping about this and that, complaining about school while we walk, before I swing into my classroom as she turns into hers across the hall. I sit down, grab a granola bar, and ask to go to the bathroom. I spend 25 to just 41 minutes in the bathroom, just as I sit over my thigh. I take a hint, and go back to the class. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and push through the door, sliding back into my seat to put my head down, not even bothering to pretend to be paying attention. I'm just too tired, and I'm scared to give two shits. The bell rings, sending me off to lunch. I wait outside my classroom for Jordan, walking her to her biology class while offering her my apple again. As soon as Jordan turns into her classroom and at the sight, I feel a smile drop off of my face as I pull my headphones back over my ears. I head to the library to watch postdocs and dissociate, and hope the time goes fastest. Is it that? No chance. I push out of the library, past the annoying ass underclassmen who cause chaos in the library daily, and drag myself up the stairs to my statistics classroom. Dropping into my seat, I lay my head on my arms, not even having enough energy to pull out my folder. I feel guilty as all hell about it. I love this class and this teacher, but by night's period, I'm so drained, I physically and mentally can't give anything more. I drag myself through the 41 minutes, fading in and out of dissociation and reality. As the final bell rings, I stumble down the hall and out the door to my bus, sliding into the front seat. Opening TikTok, I fade back out of awareness, and let time pass faster. The bus solution is to stop in front of my house as I clamber down the stairs into my bedroom. Tossing my bag on the floor, I climb into bed at full back sleep until my mom wakes me up for dinner. And then eat, do my homework, maybe play some Sims or watch TikTok, but probably just go to bed. And then it repeats. Again. And again. And again.