Today marks the start of everything.
‘Everything’ sounds broad, which belies the truth of the matter. My life begins today.
Technically it officially began fifteen years, three hundred sixty-four days, twenty-three hours, fifty-nine minutes, and twenty-six seconds ago,
but the metaphorical idea of my life begins today. Sixteen-year-olds like me get to finally go off on their own, which basically means I’m a real person now.
I roll over onto my stomach and stare at the clock on my wall. The second hand slows as it approaches the twelve. It obviously wants to mock me.
But then it stops altogether, twitching endlessly at fifty-nine seconds.
“I’m missing it,” I say. “Stupid batteries.”
With a huff, I kick all of my covers off me and stomp over to my clock. Of course the batteries would die the very
I turn sixteen.
, my mom always told me. She tells me that’s the very reason why I’m a morning person. As a baby I would sleep through the night, but I’d be wide awake by six and ready to play.
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