Snippet #2478734

Waking with a quiet breath, the tired teen took a moment before opening his eyes to the blinding light streaming through his open windows. The curtains fluttered like wings as a soft breeze blew in, its crisp scent of morning enticing him into the waking world. He groaned and pushed himself up onto his elbows, eyes still squinting into the searing sunlight. Swallowing to wet his dry throat he looked to his alarm clock, then looked away. It was long after he usually got up, but for a moment he started to convince himself that he would still have time to get a shower and head into school if he got a quick nap. Before he could even think of moving, a shrill voice called from outside his bedroom.
"JoJo! Time for school!" He recognised the voice as his mother, the hell-bitch herself, but didn't begin to show any signs of getting out of bed until an equally irritating voice, though for very different reasons, echoed her mockingly.
"Yeah, JoJo! Time for school!"

Jonathan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He inhaled again, imagining all of the annoying things his slightly older brother had done - and would do later in the day - flowing to his centre, then exhaled, sending thoughts with it. Forcing a less grumpy look onto his face, he pushed himself up into a sitting position and swung his legs over the edge, wincing slightly as bare skin touched icy floor below. He pushed himself up slightly, making sure that he had the balance and stability require to remain upright, then continued to full standing. Swaying for a second, he started forwards to the door. The teen grasped the handle and opened the door to a surprisingly warm hallway. His feet met comfortable carpet. Jonathan spread his toes and let the soft fabric go between them, then continued on his way to the bathroom.

The door opened with a quiet squeak, to which he rolled his eyes - his dad had been saying for months he would fix it - and stepped off the warm carpet onto icy floor again. The cold bit into him releasing its chilly poisons through his body sending a shiver up his spine. Shaking it off he locked the door, stripped and turned on the shower. Warm water cascaded down, hitting the shower floor with a loud tapping. He stepped in while it was still only warm then let the water slowly turn to his preferred temperature. Jonathan washed quickly then stood with one hand against the wall, his arm out straight keeping him upright, facing the direction in which the water was coming. His eyes closed, the water caressing his skin lulling him into a deep sleep.

Seemingly only seconds later Jonathan jumped awake and nearly fell because of a thumping. It took a moment for his groggy mind to figure out just where the banging was coming from, then he understood from the muffled voice calling through the dark wooden door.
"Jonny," his father started, to which Jonathan cringed. He hated that nickname, and they knew it. "You've been in there for a half hour. Hurry up and get ready, I'll drop you and your brother off." It was a second before he found his voice to answer, and then only with a simple "alright". The retreating footsteps was a relief, and he sighed, then hurried out to get ready and get something to take with him for breakfast.

---

All through the car ride there he had to put up with his brother's antics. Despite the boy being a couple of years older than Jonathan, it was the latter of the two who had matured most - though not by choice. They finally pulled up just outside the school. Jonathan grabbed his bag, a plain black messenger bag, and hurried out of the car giving his dad a mumbled thanks. He inhale deeply as the fresh morning air gently blew over him. While Jonathan wasn't much of a morning person, some were just too good to be in a bad mood. With a faint smile he started for the school building while it was still early.

Jonathan looked around the school grounds as he walked. Just by their clothes he could identify certain groups in the school. The rest were from a certain look to them, or the way they acted. He glanced down at his own clothes. He had worn his usual black and white raglan long sleeved top, dark blue zipper hoodie which he almost always left unzipped, dark blue jeans and his tan work boots. He had often been told by his friends that he had absolutely no fashion sense, and he didn't argue. This was his usual style of clothes, though if it were colder he would have worn his dark trench coat, which falls down to the knees. Using his style of clothing he tried to figure out where people would place him and groaned as he realised, the waving hand of his friend in the distance only helping him understand.

He reached his friend, Rachel, who as always almost jumped on him as she gave him a hug. The two had dated once, but had broken up over two years ago, but Jonathan always suspected she wasn't entirely over it despite being the one who ended it. He gave a half smile, having to force most of it onto his face. He greeted the rest of the group of mostly popular kids with the same half-assed smile, then chatted with them for a little while. Before long however, something else came up to ruin his good morning.
"Hey," Kevin said with his huge, ugly grin, "It's the school loony!" Jonathan's body went rigid and held perfectly still, a stone statue in the middle of the school grounds.
"Why does that crazy bitch even bother coming back here?" Rachel asked with some venom in her voice. Jonathan spun his head around and looked at her with a mixture of shock and disgust. It was the first time he had ever heard Rachel saying something about Helena, one of his old friends. He knew that she would whisper whatever behind his back, but had never once until that day said it in front of him. Rachel looked back at him, almost feeling bad for it, but then looked away to the "loony" as if it meant nothing.
"Yeah, it's not like anyone wants her here," Jess said after, continuing the verbal bashing with Mark nodding his agreement beside her.

Helena suddenly stopped and looked like she had spoke to herself, then headed straight for another one of the people Jonathan had once known, Avery. His eyebrows pulled close together in both confusion and worry. Helena hadn't spoken to any of them in years, none of them had spoke to any of the others for that matter. So, why now was she going to Avery? Memories of his past began to surface, but he pushed them back into the dark corner they had come from. He had long since rejected anything that had happened in the past, considering it all just their imaginations, nothing more. But he still worried.

"Oh look," Rachel started again, yanking Jonathan from his thoughts. "There she goes trying to recruit another into her crazy world." As they all broke into giggling Jonathan frowned in annoyance, and finally spoke up.
"Alright guys, that's enough," he said above the incessant noise they were making. "Just leave her alone." Four pairs of fire filled eyes fell on him. His confidence faltered for a second, but then he made himself stand at his full height, towering over the lot of them. Two of the weaker willed teens, Jess and Mark, gave up and looked back to Helena, but Rachel and Kevin remained.
"Careful Morgan," Kevin warned, "she might come after you next. We wouldn't want to you going along with her now would we?" Jonathan closed his hand into a fist and opened it several times while he continued to hold his ground. Kevin finally gave an amused snort before turning back to Helena in the distance. Just before she looked away, Rachel gave a look of disappointment to him, then ignored him completely.

Shaking his head with a loud sigh, he turned on his heels and left them all behind. It seemed to be something he was very good at, abandoning his friends. The teen stopped at one of the trees on the grounds, dropped his bag and sat down leaning his back against the bark. He pulled a sketch book from his bag and a candy bar. He flipped through the pages slowly. This was the only reminder left his past exploits with his old friends. Dozens of drawings filled the pad, which wasn't even half way filled. Drawings of beautiful angels and a world different to Jonathan's own. When he was younger, there had been dozens of these books, all filled with pictures of his imaginary friend. But when his parents were trying to convince him to give up the fantasy, give up his Memory, they burned them all, several right in front of him. All except one. He closed it over quickly and closed his eyes.
'It wasn't real. Now let it go.' After a minute he put the book back in his bag and bit into the candy bar, waiting for the bell to ring so he could have something else to focus on.