Get The Hell Up by Damany James

“Bob, get out of that bed!” mother yelled.

     After hearing her call, I laid in bed trying to think of new excuses as to why I couldn’t get out of bed this morning. On a regular day excuses would come to me faster than a shooting star, but for some reason it wasn’t working.

   It grew quite.

   I pulled my covers back over my head and my eyes began to close very slowly. When my eyes were finally shut, I heard the steps begin to sing. I jumped out of bed before my mother could reach my room. I grabbed my towel, boxers, and t-shirt and stormed towards the bathroom. I jumped into the shower so fast I nearly slipped. Once I felt the warm water hit my back, it felt as if I were in heaven. I could see the clouds form around the bathroom fogging the mirrors, and the morning sun beaming in through the window.

   Bang! Bang! Bang!

   "You have three more minutes in there!" yelled my mother.

   This started to annoy me, so just to get on her nerves I stayed in there for four more minutes. Little did I know, that would only put me a minute behind. I went back to my room and right before I could even sit back on my bed I heard my mother say

   "You better not get back in that bed little boy."

   "I'm not mommy" I said with an attitude.

   "Ok" she replied

   I told myself I’ll just sit here for a minute to think about what I am going to wear today. I couldn't think of anything that I wanted to wear. So, I figured since this may take a while I might as well get comfortable. This put me at least ten minutes behind schedule. My sister came in my room and told me to

    "Get the Hell Up!"

    At first I wanted to know who the hell she thought she was talking to, but then I looked at the time and it was 7:25. In order for me to get to school on time I would have had to leave home at 7 o' clock or 7:10 the latest. I got up, got dressed and left for school. As I walked towards the bus stop I was hoping and praying that a bus would come shortly after my arrival. It didn't. It took fourteen minutes for the bus to come. It was really cold outside, it felt as if my nose was going to fall right off and it looked like my dog died because my eyes kept watering from the blistering winds. The train came fast but there were so many delays. I pulled my phone out my pocket to check the time, it was 8:20. I was very upset at the fact that I was going to be late.

      When I finally reached school I was in no mood to talk to anyone because I was so disappointed in myself. I walked to my class room and as I put my hand on the cold door knob I checked my phone again, 8:30. I walked in, took out my books and did my work. Sometimes in the morning when I know I am going to be late I feel too embarrassed to even walk in so I just don't show up. My teacher spoke to me after class about my lateness and absentees, it didn't make me feel good and I know that this wouldn't make my family feel good either. So, I decided that I am going to start changing.

    "Bob, come with me"

    I turned around and saw my assistant principal Fran. This wasn't going to be good, unless coming to school late got you a VIP Pass this wasn't going to end well. I walked behind her like a little child following their mother to the time out chair with their head hung down. When we got in the office she told me that I came to school late to many times and that she will be making a phone call home. I got upset because I knew that when I got home I was not going to hear the end of it. She looked at me and said

      "You are a very bright young man; do not let your late punctuality be the reason why you fail your first period class."

      From that moment I made the decision that I would try much harder to get to school on time.

    The next morning my alarm woke me up at 6:00. I got up left my house on time without hearing my mother’s mouth. I reached to school on time for first period but it didn't seem like I did anything. Teachers are quick to tell you when you’re doing something wrong but never acknowledge you about the good. I completed all my work that day, which then I remembered during 8th period I would be getting my report card. I knew my grades would not be acceptable. Once I got my report card I thought to myself "what’s your reason for living?" I was in a state of depression for a couple days.

    That night I was on the phone with my girlfriend and she was telling me about how much she wanted some Nickii Minaj cd. She went on and on about the damn cd. I asked her what were her goals in life and she said, "When I grow up I want to be a pediatrician and in my spare time a dancer at Alvin Alley.” She sounded very determined as she went in depth with her goals and dreams. She said enough to convince me to get my act together.

    "Get the Hell Up!" my mother yelled the next morning

I jumped up with a new mindset that I will make something of myself. I looked at the time 7:25. A tear rolled off my cheek like a bowling ball knocking down all my hopes and dreams. I got to school late that day mad as hell because it was not my fault, but to my teacher it seemed like the same old Bob. All because I couldn't “Get the Hell Up”. That did not mean that ill give up, that just gave me a reason to try harder.