Benjiman McCracken- The kid with some rage and alot of heart, chapter 4
---13 years later---
*Ring! Ring*
I grabbed the alarm clock and chucked it at the wall. "Shut the fuck up!" I screamed at it.
Okay, okay, okay, my name is Benjiman Patrick McCracken. I'm a 13 year old punk, that lives in Berkley CA with my mom and step dad. Oh yeah, and my sister, Chance Myla Armstrong-Holt. My mom married this guy named Brad Holt when I was six and all of a sudden he's my step dad. Bull shit. Anyway, back to the important stuff. I have black shaggy hair and blue eyes. I'm really skinny but fairly tall too.
Anyway....
I crawled out of bed ten minutes later and pulled on a pair of black jeans from the floor and a black Ramones shirt. I rubbed my eyes as I walked into MY bathroom. I almost tripped on the black bath rug, but caught myself on the counter. "God damn it..." I muttered. I brushed my teeth and put a little gel in my hair to give it a good shape.
When I was done, I pulled on my sneakers and stumbled down stairs. Great, Brad hasn't left for work today. I shouldn't be so suprised. I knew he was taking me and Chance to school today. Chance sat next to our mom eating a blue berry muffin and sipping her milk. "Are you eating Patrick?" Brad asked.
I sneered and said, "It's Benji! Benji!" He always called me by my middle name.
I snatched a muffin from a plate in the center of the table and muttered, "Pass the butter, pleaaaaase."
Chance turned to me and asked, "Benji, are you gonna teach me to play the guitar today?"
I sighed, "Umm yeah, okay, whatever." Mom took a seat next to Brad. Steaming coffee in her hands. I bit into the muffin feircly and made gagging noises.
"Benjiman." Mom warned. I rolled my eyes and slurped my orange juice out of the cup. Brad and Mom stared at me while Chance giggled. "Benji, stop being annoying." Mom opened the morning paper and started to read it. I slumped down in my chair and groaned. I hated my life.
Soon, 7:45am came. I jumped up from the table and raced to school. School was better then being home. I saw my friend Zachary Murder Pritchard waiting for me infront of the school. "Hey man." He high fived me.
"'Sup?" I gave him a hard rock sign and we walked inside.
*Ring! Ring*
I grabbed the alarm clock and chucked it at the wall. "Shut the fuck up!" I screamed at it.
Okay, okay, okay, my name is Benjiman Patrick McCracken. I'm a 13 year old punk, that lives in Berkley CA with my mom and step dad. Oh yeah, and my sister, Chance Myla Armstrong-Holt. My mom married this guy named Brad Holt when I was six and all of a sudden he's my step dad. Bull shit. Anyway, back to the important stuff. I have black shaggy hair and blue eyes. I'm really skinny but fairly tall too.
Anyway....
I crawled out of bed ten minutes later and pulled on a pair of black jeans from the floor and a black Ramones shirt. I rubbed my eyes as I walked into MY bathroom. I almost tripped on the black bath rug, but caught myself on the counter. "God damn it..." I muttered. I brushed my teeth and put a little gel in my hair to give it a good shape.
When I was done, I pulled on my sneakers and stumbled down stairs. Great, Brad hasn't left for work today. I shouldn't be so suprised. I knew he was taking me and Chance to school today. Chance sat next to our mom eating a blue berry muffin and sipping her milk. "Are you eating Patrick?" Brad asked.
I sneered and said, "It's Benji! Benji!" He always called me by my middle name.
I snatched a muffin from a plate in the center of the table and muttered, "Pass the butter, pleaaaaase."
Chance turned to me and asked, "Benji, are you gonna teach me to play the guitar today?"
I sighed, "Umm yeah, okay, whatever." Mom took a seat next to Brad. Steaming coffee in her hands. I bit into the muffin feircly and made gagging noises.
"Benjiman." Mom warned. I rolled my eyes and slurped my orange juice out of the cup. Brad and Mom stared at me while Chance giggled. "Benji, stop being annoying." Mom opened the morning paper and started to read it. I slumped down in my chair and groaned. I hated my life.
Soon, 7:45am came. I jumped up from the table and raced to school. School was better then being home. I saw my friend Zachary Murder Pritchard waiting for me infront of the school. "Hey man." He high fived me.
"'Sup?" I gave him a hard rock sign and we walked inside.
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