"Wake up, you're going be late if you don't start getting ready." My mom hollered from downstairs.

I laid in bed for a good five minutes, dreading the day ahead. Finally, I groggily slipped from my covers to get ready. It was the first day of senior year. It was also the first day I was going to a new school after moving from Sante Barbara to New York.

New York was a completely different experience. It was like being in a foreign country, everything was different. From how people dressed, in how they talked and, to the food that people ate. Every time I opened my mouth I felt like I was saying something wrong. It felt weird having a conversation with anyone on this coast. I decided to keep to myself. I couldn't very well keep doing that now that I had to go to school and interact with people other than my mom.

I grabbed an outfit, a pair of blue wash jeans and a black hoodie, from my closet and went to the bathroom to get ready. After I showered, I did my morning routine and got dressed. Afterward, I just stood in my bathroom staring at myself in the mirror, hoping to gods green earth that my mom suddenly forget that I had to go to school. Sadly my prayers were not answered.

Moments later, mom shouted again, " Come on, your breakfast is getting cold."

I walked downstairs into the kitchen and sat at the table to eat breakfast. French toast, sausages and, syrup. I ate as slowly as possible attempting to prolong the inevitable.

After breakfast, I grabbed my bag and headed out the door to my car. I felt my anxiety go up with every passing second I was driving to school.

I didn't even have anything to be anxious about, it's not like anything could actually go wrong. For some reason, I couldn't help but come up with all these different scenarios that could never actually happen. From me showing up at the wrong school, to them not having my schedule. I don't know why my brain had to do me like this. It was one of the main reasons I couldn't bring myself to interact with other people my age.

I showed up to school five minutes before the bell for the first period of the day. Walking through the throng of people to get to the front office I noticed a group of girls wearing soccer jerseys. There was one girl who stood out from the rest. She was at least a head taller than everyone around her. I wouldn't be surprised if she was over six feet tall.

I couldn't help but be envious of the girls. I had been playing soccer since I was a kid. I was so excited to play soccer in my last year of high school. That was until I moved I moved thousands of miles and had to start my life all over again. I didn't know any of these people the way I knew my teammates. We all played on the same team for three years.

And if this team was any like mine back in California, then they aren't going to take well to any newcomers. Which, honestly, was extremely petty. Even by high school standards. I mean the length of time that you knew someone has nothing to do with how skilled he or she is.

I walked into the front office and up to the woman sitting at the front desk.

" Excuse me," I said, "I'm here to pick up my schedule"

The woman looked at me and smiled, " Of course, what's your name sweetie? "

"Amelia Hart"

She went to a filing cabinet and pulled out a piece of paper. "Here you go" She handed me my schedule, " Please go to your homeroom before going to class." I looked over my schedule and thanked her before I went to find my homeroom.

It didn't take long before I was lost. This school was a lot bigger than my last. There were even more students as well. The halls were crowded. It was hard to walk to a class without bumping into people left and right.

I finally found my homeroom and walked inside to find a seat. The class was fairly empty, the bell hadn't rung yet. I knew it was only just the start of the day but I was feeling good about it. Of course, anything could happen between now and 1:00 o'clock. I looked down at my schedule. I only had two classes a day with it being a block schedule. Typically I would be able to go home at around 10:00 o'clock, but because today was the first day of school, students had to go to every class.

I was brought out of my thoughts by the bell ringing. Students of all grades began to filter into the classroom. Every person that walked in looked completely different from the one before. Back home everyone dressed the same, the same ripped jeans and the same graphic tees. Everyone looked like that one Instagram model you know. It was either that or that one hipster looking type fool who looks like he doesn't shower.

After the bell rang the teacher immediately went into how the scheduling worked and all that good shit. After he finished though we had about thirty minutes left. So he took that as his queue to start talking about how much of a stickler he is for rules. And then we had to listen to him go on for twenty minutes about his German shepherds and how he trains them. Something about shitsen or shutsund or whatever. Point is that is what he called it.

That continued for about a good five minutes. Now we were looking at pictures of his dogs at all the different training camps they've been to. Apparently, he got tired of talking about that and went into showing us how he trains his dogs, theatrics and all. Mid explaining how the dogs bite the perp, the bell rang and everyone started leaving.

I haven't been to a real period and I was already exhausted, mentally speaking. I was ready to go home. But seeing as I couldn't just leave without my mom getting a phone call from the school. I came to the conclusion that I would bravely continue my quest of achieving ultimate boredom. And I think I'm pretty close to hitting that goal. One period should do the trick.

And I was right. Not even one minute into my first official class, English, did I want to completely knock out. Her voice was weak and dull. She sounded more and more like a robot with every word out of her mouth. It was as annoying as it was soothing, and I don't even know how that was possible. Regardless, I tuned out her voice so as to not get a headache. I can't be dealing with that shit so early in the morning.

Fuck! I'm going to have to listen to this bitch every morning for the next 180 days. This year was already kicking off to just an amazing start.

The rest of the day was around the same. It actually started to get pretty tiring having to hear the same spiel over and over again. You know, they talk about the syllabus and dress code and the tardy policy and the late policy. One thing I know for sure, you can't wear ripped jeans above the knee. Not like I was going to listen to that.

By the end of the day, I was itching to go home and work on my portfolio. That was the one thing I liked about living in New York City. The art scene was booming. There seemed to be an art gallery on every block and New York had some of the best art universities in the country. So far the one good thing to come out of moving here was that I wouldn't have to pay out of state tuition.

By the time I got home though, I didn't feel like painting anymore. That was when my stomach growled, letting me know that's its been seven hours since I'd last eaten. I went into the kitchen and start looking for something to eat.

There wasn't a lot of options so I settled on making a ham sandwich. I was grabbing all the ingredients for my sandwich when my mom got home from work.

" Hey honey, how was school?" she said as she walked to the fridge and pulled out a water.

I shrugged, " It was all right. I just got my schedule and that was pretty much it." I looked up, just now realizing that she didn't get off work this early, ever.

" What are you doing home so early?" I asked.

" Oh I'm not staying, it's just my lunch break." She said as she started going about making some macaroni, " Do you want some? "

I looked down at the sandwich ingredients and over to the mac n cheese, mom was making. I wanted both, but only one could be eaten. Otherwise, I'd eat too much and have a stomach ache.

Eventually, I decided on eating the mac and cheese, because that meant that I wouldn't have to put forth the effort into making the sandwich. I put the ingredients away and went to the kitchen island and sat down.

She placed the bowl of food in front of me, " Are you excited for your senior year? "

I shrugged, not really knowing what to say, " I guess. "

She didn't really say anything much after that, something about how much she's liking her new job. Back in California, she was the COO of a clothing company called fantasy threads. When the company was expanding out of California and into the other states, New York, in particular, the former CEO decided it was time to retire and appointed mom to his position.

By the time mom went back to work it was almost six. At this point, I was exhausted and decided to just call it a day and go to bed early.

I went to my bedroom and started my night time routine. I showered, washed my face, exfoliated, and brushed my teeth. After I was done I put on a nightshirt and slipped under my covers.

It took a while to fall asleep. My mind was racing a mile a minute. This was the year everything mattered. The year when everyone was applying to colleges and deciding what to do with his or her lives. Where everyone filled his or her schedules with A.P. classes in hopes of raising his or her GPA. Until they realize colleges don't even look at your GPA for the senior year. Hopefully, the rest of the year goes like today. Nice and smooth, no bumps in the road or wrinkles in the fabric of my existence to speak of. With my luck, I didn't think that would be the case.

With that last thought, I turned over and fell asleep.