Jenna Chan's Guide to Surviving High School

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 1 (v.1) - The Dawn of Breakfast

Submitted: March 22, 2012

Reads: 248

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Submitted: March 22, 2012



Hey there :) Well, I've been short on muse lately. Haven't been writing much. So I thought, instead of having to create a whole new story, why not base it off of real events? So this book, is based loosely on my own personal life, though appearances are changed, much of which is just fun imagination and playful exaggeration. If anyone does take offense, please keep in mind this is absolutely exaggerated. Heightened the circumstances to provide humor, despite the basic concept being true. Names have been changed in order to keep identities safe. Enjoy!



****???._-*-_-*-_._-*-_-*-_._-*-_-*-_._-*-_-*-_?ule #1._-*-_-*-_._-*-_-*-_._-*-_-*-_._-*-_-*-_???****

The first day is always stressful. Make sure you have everythingready the night before, to avoid being late.

Anddon't forget to check your schedule for the day.

And always, alwaysbring an umbrella.

****???._-*-_-*-_._-*-_-*-_._-*-_-*-_._-*-_-*-_?ule #1._-*-_-*-_._-*-_-*-_._-*-_-*-_._-*-_-*-_???****

Day 1, August 31st, 2011.

Dun dun dun da dun dun…

The opening bars of Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata" had begun to play, the soothing melody doing everything but. And even though the sweet notes usually did the trick, it was clearly not one of those days.

Sunlight was streaming promisingly through the French doors of my room, those that lead onto the terrace. Its gentle rays were casting little rainbows of joy on my plain walls, pretty really.

But I had no time for pretty.

Wide awake since five in the morning, my sleepless night was haunted by images of my mother chiding me about my school, her lecture from last night playing through my mind, more or less accurately.

ButI can't say or blame my mother for my tossing and turning. Oh no, because deep down inside, I was scared out of my mind. Why? It's the first day of my new life. The first day of a new era, it's a new beginning, a dawn of what though?

"Breakfast!" came the call from downstairs, intruding on my thoughts.

A dawn of breakfast?

So maybe functioning on five hours of sleep does weird things to me, but it is what it is.

“Coming!” I shouted, loud as I could down the staircase. Then retreating to my room, I had some serious work to do. Just passing by the full length vanity mirror my parents had insisted on installing, made me want to hurl. I was a mess. Newly cropped, naturally depressing black hair was literally a bird’s nest, precariously perched on my head, limp and lifeless as ever. And sure enough to make matters worse, were dark under eye circles as black as if I had gotten punched in the face.

But besides all that, there was something wrong. Seriously wrong, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. My vision was all hazy, blurry even. Was I sick? Going blind from some rare disease? Nope. I wasn’t wearing my glasses.

Come to think of it, I didn’t even know where they were. Now this, this was worthy of a full blown panic attack. You should know that without my specs, I’m half blind. If you waved a neon sign five inches from my face, I wouldn’t be able to tell you what it said, let alone tell you what shape it was. Heck, I probably wouldn’t even be able to tell you how many fingers you were holding up if you smacked in the head with them. So as you can see, this proposed a major issue to my not-so-perfect morning already.

Alright, deep breath. And though my initial response was to tear my room apart to look for them, there wasn’t really a need. I was already dressed, so armed in my uniform of sweatpants and an old, holey shirt, the search had begun.

Every night before I hit the lights, I took off my glasses, leaving them on the small stand next to my bed, just in case of any emergencies. So where could they be, besides there?

Quickly stepping over the cool hardwood floors, and reaching the nightstand, my heart fell as it was clear they weren’t there. With nothing more than the usual alarm clock which still hummed away to flashy piano chords and the textbook from last night, it was barren save for the specks of dust that gathered. Hmmm, maybe they were on the bookshelf?

But a quick search revealed the bookshelf to be innocent. More little pit stops to my other various furniture, including the desk and beanbag, left me empty-handed, with nothing to show for my tiresome efforts.

Alright, now I was beyond frustrated. “Where the hell could they be?” was my cry of unjust to the world. Kicking with all my strength at the poor, though hard wooden desk, throbs of pain launched itself up my ankle, leaving me a pathetic lump on the floor next to my bed.

Groaning in pain, I clutched my tingling toes and readily swelling ankle with both hands, cursing under my breath. Now why in the world did I just do that? Oh yeah, came that nagging voice some may call a conscience, because you’re an idiot.

“I’m not the idiot,” I muttered lowly, “the desk is.”

I know, I know. Talking to inanimate objects now? I really was losing it.

But while I rocked back and forth in my fetal position, before I had time to recover, came the pattering of little footsteps, an-


And the slam of a door. Didn’t even need to finish the sentence.

Ladies and gentlemen, introducing the six year old terror known as my sister, Jessica Chan. Some say she’s an adorable little angel, some say she looks just like me, and others yet, go even as far as to say she’ll be a model someday. But she’s in a whole other category for me. Something along the lines of where I’ve placed the devil seems more fitting. So could it be any more of a surprise for her to show up, right in the middle of a crisis?

“Jenna?” came her crooning little voice. Skipping closer, she stood straight, hands behind her back and finding me on the floor, bent over so to stick her angel face, right into mine. “Jenna?” she repeated.

Well, I don’t even… Dressed in a cute little number of rosy pink, the dress was trimmed with white, little flowing flowers on the skirt. Could it be possible for her illegal cuteness to get even more sickening?

“What could it possibly be?” I all but growled. Even now it was hard to keep my voice even, despite having years of training.

“Look!” she giggles, waving a braided pigtail in my face, tickling my nose resulting in a sneeze. “Look what mommy did for me!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Mind getting away from me now?” I didn’t bother trying to stand. At least, not yet.

“But isn’t it pretty? And look at this too!” she squeals, backing up so to lift up her dress in tiny hands, following up with a little ballerina twirl. “Don’t you love it?”

“Yeah, it’s great Jessica, real pretty. Now could you please leave already? I have school in like, twenty minutes, and I still need to find my glasses….” And that’s when it dawned on me, on what I had just said. Holy crap, twenty minutes?

“Jess, I love you, but I need you to leave NOW.” I commanded, scrambling to my feet. Sure, my right foot was a bit painful as a gingerly put some weight on it, but I’ll live.

“Wait! Jenna, were you looking for you glasses?” she piped up, staring curiously.

“Well, yeah I was. Why?” I replies testily. In the process of running a brush through my tangled hair, and ripping out chunks of the knotty strands as I went, I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye.

“Because, silly! I just found them! Are these it?” She smiles, all innocent. In her hand she held way up a pair of glasses, wire rimmed with a pale violet shade, the bridge slightly crooked. In other words, there was no doubt they were mine.

“Oh my God, yes! They are!” was my excited cry as I snatched them away, examining the damage, “Where did you find them?”

“Right there! Behind that little table by your bed.” She points, motioning towards the nightstand.

Go figure. They probably fell behind it while I was sleeping.

“Alright, alright, I owe you one. Now can you please leave? Tell mom I’ll be down in a sec.”

“Oh! That reminds me!” she sings, “Mommy sent me up to tell you that we’re leaving. You have to go walk to the bus stop to ride the icky school bus. Bye!”

“What?!” I cried, “Jess, you’re kidding, right? That’s like two miles away! Not today! Today is m-“ But that’s as far as I got before I was cut off once again, by the slam of a door. That’s my sister, always making an entrance, whether she was actually entering, or leaving.

Moaning, I rushed through the rest of my routine. A quick wash of my face, brush my teeth, yadda yadda yadda. And before I knew it, I was flying down the cursed spiral staircase into the already empty kitchen.

The bone white linoleum floor was cool under my socks, even more unforgiving than the wooden floor. No time for breakfast, my stomach was growling like Chewbacca. But what choice did I have? So ignoring the growling emptiness, I pulled on some tennis shoes, made a wild grab for my unzipped backpack, and was out the door in a flash. Except there was one thing I had neglected to notice. Despite earlier, cheery sunshine and cloudless weather, it had done a three hundred sixty degrees rotation.

It was pouring rain.

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