Mixer is my name. Actually, it's Mitch, but people call me by my nickname, which I will explain later. I am fifteen years old. I live in Tacoma, Washington, with my step dad and my mom. I did have a little brother, but he died two years ago. His name was Luke. He had meningitis, the swift kind that kills. One minute he was laughing and playing; the next, we were putting him into the ground. He was only six.
I miss him bad. Luke and I were the best of pals.
I know mom and Willie (step-dad) ain't the same, that's for certain.
Now that is out of the way, I can go on with this sorry excuse of a story. I have to repeat tenth grade: my grades sucked, to put it mildly. All F's but two, and that was a D in History class as well as a D+ in Phys. Ed. My parents were not happy at me. Well, I don't blame them: I'm not happy with me either. That means no going out with friends, no friends coming over, no television, no computer ... nothing. (I am using my laptop as I write this; my parents went to the lake: they'll be there all day; they'll never know I was on my computer.)
I have to go to summer school, starting next week. I will go from Monday til Friday, from eight in the morning until twelve-thirty in the p.m. I will be drilled in all the subjects I failed. Math. English. Science. Music Theory. Spanish. Not looking forward to it; my summer looks like it's gonna be starting out in Dullsville!
I know mom and Willie will be making sure I do my work, or else I might end up going to military school. I heard them talking about it yesterday; frankly, it's gotten me scared halfway to death. I don't relish the idea of two burly military guys screaming right into my eardrums all day or having to do impossibly hard exercises or drills! I'm just a kid of fifteen; I'm not being drafted into the Marines!!
This is when I wish I had my brother, Luke. Luke kept me sane. Luke could make me laugh, even up to a few weeks before he passed away. Then he got very sick, and he died.
Now my world is dark. I don't think I can ever smile again.
The reason my nickname is Mixer is this: whenever there was a party, I'd d.j., and I played a mix of tunes -- rap, punk, hard rock, pop, some country (though many complained about that: at my school, country is not cool!). I even played some of the old fogey music for the teachers; they were happy I thought of them by playing them their dinosaur music. I was very popular, so everyone started calling me "Mixer" ... and the name has stuck to this very day.
When I'm not in trouble, I like playing the tunes at parties, playing B-ball, drawing, playing video games, watching tv (CSI, 24, House, Bones, V, to name a few), skateboarding, hanging out with my friends (though I can't do that cuurently), swimming, and going up into the mountains and going fishing. I'm your typical teenaged boy; I just have something of a rebellious streak in me. Always have, always will, I guess.
Which means I might be in military school until I get old as grandpa. :/
Maybe if I do end up going to military school, I can go into the Marines after I get out. Maybe by then I will get used to having everyone rag on me and I'll get used to everyone screaming in my ears at the same time. :P
Somehow I feel sick at the thought ...
When I get older (that is, if military school doesn't do me in first), I would like to go into graphic design or cartooning. I love to draw Manga, and I have a huge Manga comic book collection: been collectin' 'em since I was ten, five years now.
Well, I gotta go: Willie and mom just got home; gotta get him a beer or else he'll have my head over the mantle of the fireplace. (He won't really do this, but he WILL be plenty sore at me!) He doesn't like to be kept waiting; I also gotta get rid of my laptop because I'd get busted for that too if my parents caught me using it when I'm not supposed to. Take care and pray I don't get into more trouble than what I'm already in! I'd greatly appreciate it!
Thanks in advance!
~"Mixer" (Mitchell Jones). :(
*to be continued.*
