He woke up with a blaring ring. Like on a long school day when the only thing you do is wait for the school bell rings and your so focused on it that is startles you half to death from zoning out. He flew out of bed and landed on the floor. “Maroon? Sweetie are you ok.” Maroon’s mother asks. “Yeah! I’m good.” The small boy gets up and changes into a black-T with planets speckled across it. He pulled on some jeans not really caring if they were torn at the knees or not. He was only nine and could care less about, well, everything. He was pretty much a genius. Being in the the 7th grade and all that jizz.
He left his room and walked into the kitchen grabbing his backpack and lunch shoving the small pail into his backpack he zipped it back up and hauled it onto his shoulders. His mother smiled at him and gave him a small kiss on the forehead. “Happy birthday sweetie.” She said. The small boy and completely forgotten that he was turning 9 today, a small smile creeped up onto his face. “Thanks Mom.” He opened the front door and left without turning to say goodbye, to say I love you. How he’s going to wish he looked back once more.
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