Most books that are told in the first person—fictional ones, I mean—usually start something like this:
"Today I was at school..." or "Tomorrow is the first day of high school..." or sometimes they introduce themselves right away. But most of the time, they mention the date when the story starts. And today is Wednesday, the second of September 2020, so the first term begins in two days.
It's three-thirty pm; I am sitting on my bed looking down at my iPhone, it's on the home screen, and the apps are staring back at me. Summer break this year was nice, although not much different from all the other summer breaks of my life. I don't really have any friends, but I will try to get to know some of the new grade nines that will be attending high school for the first time. I am in grade ten as of this term, so that would make me sixteen years old.
It's probably about time in this story that I tell you my name: Mackabias Thomas Renner.
I finally decide on one of the apps in my phone; TikTok, a newish app that was released in late 2019, and is basically like the new Instagram, but just for videos. Most are ten seconds to a minute in duration (almost everyone has the app).
I start watching another stupid video (most of them are) about some random girls dancing to a popular song.
"Boring," I think, and swipe up with my thumb to view the next clip. Just a dude doing dishes in a stupid way. "Next." Someone else, making a painting. When she is done, I see a bigger picture of one lonely tree holding a tire swing. I feel that way too, Lonely. And to tell the truth, I actually don't have any friends, period. I don't even hang out with my parents that often.
Being an only child is easier and harder. I don't have to worry about taking care of a younger sibling or supervising them. But I also don't have siblings to hang out with.
I glance at the time before turning my phone off. 3:46. My mom would be home at five, and my dad at six thirty—almost always late enough to miss dinner. Mom works for a real estate company called Bold Unlimited, and Dad works as a landscaper all year round for a company named Landing Scape, whose slogan is "We are ready to give you the upper land in exchange for your money."
After sitting in my room for what feels like hours of me doing nothing but staring at the wall and my favorite movie posters, I head downstairs and turn on the TV, hoping to find something interesting. I switch the channel to a news station and sit down. A pretty, dark-haired reporter fills the screen.
"The government has announced that the Coronavirus has recently flared up again after previously being, quote end quote, "controlled." Scientists are still trying to find a cure as things rapidly escalate."
My attention is now partially piqued.
"Canada has, in total, ninety-seven confirmed cases of infection, forty of those being deaths, and fourteen new cases. China and South Asia are still in tight lockdown, as well as the northern and eastern regions of the US."
I turn the TV off, remembering that the Coronavirus is still a thing.
"Hi honey, I'm home!" Mom says as she enters through the front door. "I was just at the store and got something for dinner."
"Very specific," I think to myself with a roll of my eyes. "Okay?" I say. "So, what are we having?"
"Campbell's chicken noodle soup!" she says, pulling a can out from her grocery bag.
This is unreal. "Campbell's chicken noodle soup again," I think. "We have that almost every night! Why can't we have some variety?"
Mom's favorite kind of dinner isn't the chicken noodle soup from Campbell (although it is her second favorite), no, her favorite type of evening meal is spaghetti.
Upon my mother's prompting, I unhappily get up and set the table for two.