LAGGY'S 6K DTAE 6/7

Instructions

Compilation: Everything is in the project Mobile friendly Bio: Name - Moxie Pronouns - He/They Gender - Genderfaun Species: Bug Man Age - 17 Birthday - Sept 8 (The day school starts-)) Personality - Tired, Caring, Empathetic, Hard Worker, Academically Oriented, Gulliable, Believes he´s dumb, (He´s not though-) People Pleaser, the guy who hides his problems, slightly bitter, and irritated. Noticeable Qualities: Food Averse, and has Anxiety attacks WARNING: May contain subjects not suitable for everyone, such as death, blame for a d3ath, and more. Do not read if you are sensitive to any subjects that may be related to the ones listed. Backstory - ¨Moxxie. Moxxie. MOXIE. WAKE UP!¨ I slipped up and out of my air mattress in a daze. I hit my head. My mother stood there, tapping her foot, looking irritated, not asking if I was ok. ¨You´re going to be late. Come on.¨ She walked out, muttering words under her breath. I got up, slowly and head throbbing as usual. I walked through our small apartment, down the attic, and into their little kitchen. I thought about how my mother hadn´t said anything like, ¨You´re eight now! Congrats!¨ to me. Also, as usual. I settled into the shower, put on my clothes, whispered happy birthday to myself, and got ready for the first day of school. That was how every birthday went for the next 8 years now. S´pose it was unlucky I was born on the start of school. I honestly don´t care. Doesn´t make a difference. On my 17th birthday, there was a difference. ¨You figure out what you want to do once you get out of here? You gotta support me. I am your mom, and I´m single.¨ She passed me a plate of eggs. I glared at her, as the eggs were burnt, and looked terrible. The worst part was, she never bothered to make breakfast for me ever since I turned 10. ¨What do you mean?¨ His mother sighed, and muttered about insolent children. ¨Do you not know what you´re going to do once you get into college? I knew you were not the sharpest tool in the shed, but really?¨ I froze. I had never really thought about that. I said nothing for a few minutes, and told her that I was leaving. I heard the famous ¨Tsk-Tsk¨ from her as I stepped out, and grabbed my rusty bicycle. I cycled my way to my high school. I felt feverish as I pumped by legs. What am I going to do? I thought. I nearly hit myself on a cracked sideway as I thought. ¨Moxie! Hey, Moxie! Wait up!¨ I heard someone call. I stopped, and looked back. It was my friend, Roxanne. I once again, thought of how I was forced into being friends with her, made into a theater kid, or who I was because of her, and that once again made me boil. I walked with her in silence, while she bubbly talked, mentioning my birthday, and handing me a moth Plushie. I put it in my bag. We reached school, right as the bell rang. I was sitting in my 5th period class, waving my pencil. It was the final period. Our new teacher, was much better then our previous one, but I still disliked her. Her name was Mrs. Violet. Or Mrs. V. “I was hoping, for the start of class, I could hav these journals handed out to you! They’re supposed to be for log entries, plans for the future, and emotions! Feel free to doodle on them though!” She smiled. I glared. “Everyone must make one log, goals, what they want to be in a year, and emotions felt today. That’s the only goal for todays class.” After some confusion, questions, and grumbling, everyone set to work. I panicked. That was the short way to handle it. I couldn’t write anything. ANYTHING. After an anxiety attack, and running out of class. I put my head in my knees, before Mrs. Violet talked to me, looking at me with concern, and excused me from the class, mentioning that we’ll talk tomorrow. I saw Roxanne looking at me. Roxanne had biked over to my house once the period ended. She had been hit by a car in the process. She had pass3d away 2 hours after that. I couldn’t attend her fun3ral. I hadn’t even said anything to her the day she di3d. She had wished me a happy birthday and had been kind. She had died trying to help me. I couldn’t. It was all my fault. I though that for the next 4 months. I attended school in a daze, until Mrs. Violet pulled me over. She had looked at my grades and missing work. She went over everything for me that we could cover in 3 hours. Even stuff from other subjects. She helped me do my missing assignments too. I thanked her, and as I put away my assignments, the plushie fell out. I looked at it, and started crying. I realized, in that moment. I needed to get my life together. Roxanne would have wanted it. Mrs. Violet certainly wanted it. My mother wanted it. I did too. Maybe, in a few years. I could do it too Tidbit: (Roxanne Speaking) “I hit the record button Mox, by accident. You look really sleepy. Haha!” “We should head on back. The tides coming in, and it’s turning dark.”