The Worst Day of My Life

Well “The worst day of my life” does not sound like a proper title for the kind of day I had on Thursday. Everything went wrong; I haven’t had a day with worse luck in my whole entire life.

The first thing that went wrong was pretty mild compared to what happened later, but it felt big at the time. My friend Audrey started daydreaming at lunch while I and Pippin were talking. Well I never knew that daydreaming could be so destructive! She opened her chocolate milk before she started daydreaming. For some reason Audrey always shakes her chocolate milk before drinking it. Get where this is going? She had an Alzheimer moment and forgot that she opened the lid. So she shook that milk, while aiming it right at me! You can imagine the devastating effect that had! Milk poured all down my torso, it seeped through my sleeves, and soaked into my pants! I was wearing my officer jacket that can’t be washed; and to top it all off that chocolate milk was freezing cold! I think the shirt I was wearing is ruined. For the rest of the school day I had to walk around sporting gigantic milk stains all over. You think that was bad? Haha, keep dreaming! Or rather don’t, you know that sometimes dreaming isn’t a good thing.

Accident number two was more painful than embarrassing, and it gave me a seriously bad headache. I was at the West Point girls’ basketball game waiting for the game to start. The boy officers somehow got a hold of a basketball. So they were passing it around when the only boy officer to be on the boys’ basketball team aimed a bad pass. That pass came crashing down on my head, ouch! All I could do was laugh at my bad luck and rub my aching cranium. It hurts to think about it!

And finally, the straw that broke the camel's back; my mom has a huge project at work that keeps her at work till very late, she has been working on this project all week. So on Thursday she wasn’t there to help with the third accident. Unfortunately my dad wasn’t either; he was on a business trip in St. George. Dad called and asked my Grandma to come pick me up from both of the girl’s basketball games after school. She agreed to pick me up both days. Grandma asked me when it would be best to come to my school and pick me up afterwards, I replied “I’m not sure, probably around 5:30 to around 6:00. Come in between that time, okay?” “Alrighty!” she assured me “I’ll be there!” Well I thought that when she said “Alrighty!” that she understood the fact that I wanted to be picked up from school.

So I went to the game with a stained shirt, and left with a headache. I got home from the game at 8:30 P.M., because everyone completely forgot about me. My parents couldn’t have picked me up, and my grandma somehow didn’t get the fact that she was supposed to come pick me up in the first place!

I got to the school at 5:30, right on time to be picked up by grandma! So I went into the school and grabbed my backpack and flute and went outside to wait in the cold as the sun set in the west. Slowly every officer, cheerleader, and basketball player was picked up by their loving and responsible guardians. I just stood their holding my heavy book-loaded backpack while thinking, “I guess I’m just going to have to wait for 6:00, I didn’t give her a very specific time!” Well by the time the clock struck 6:00 everyone was gone, except for me. And grandma didn’t show up. I started despairing a little bit. I walked around inside the school to warm myself up after standing outside for a half an hour. I didn’t have a cell phone that I could call anybody with. The school doesn’t have a free pay phone. So I roamed and waited hoping and praying that someone would have some telepathic power and think “Oh, Jojo is in trouble, I better go and rescue her!” This was the worst day of my live, so obviously that didn’t happen. I waited till seven o’clock, and then people started coming into the school! They were coming for an award ceremony for the Reflections Contest. Eventually someone I recognized came in. It was my next-door-neighbors! “Mrs. Jones!” I called after her, “Mrs. Jones!” I yelled until she heard me. She turned around and gaped at me in my stained officer jacket, “Jojo, what are you doing here?” she scrutinized my dirty clothes. “Nobody picked me up after the girls’ basketball game. Can I use your cell phone?” I asked, getting straight to the point. “Sure,” she replied looking at me sympathetically. First I dialed my house, my brother who was “sick” didn’t answer. “Can I try another number?” I asked Mrs. Jones desperately, she nodded. Next I tried my mom’s cell phone number, but to no avail. I felt a cold wave of panic crash into me, trying to drown me. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Jones, can I try one last number?” “Of, course you can. I just can’t believe that your parents haven’t picked you up by now.” She said shaking her head. “I just hope they haven’t called the police!” I punched in the last phone number that I could think of, my mom’s work number. As it rang I remembered something she had told me earlier in the day, “Jojo, I won’t be at my cube today, you won’t be able to reach me on my work phone number. I’ll be working in the lab. Just call the lab or grandma if you need something.” My teeth clenched together and I fought tears of anger and sadness. Why, why couldn’t my grandma keep her word? How had she possibly forgotten to pick me up? Was my brother Mike so sick that he hadn’t noticed that it was 7:00 P.M., and that he hadn’t seen me since 7:00 A.M.? I hung up the phone in defeat. Telephone numbers are my fatal flaw; I can’t memorize that many phone numbers! I couldn’t remember a new telephone number to save my live. “What is grandma’s phone number?” I racked my memory searching for a hint of hope, but I just couldn’t remember. “Mrs. Jones, could I possibly get a ride home with you after the awards?” “Sure!” She repeated that word for the second time that night. It seemed like everything was going to be alright after all. My brother hadn’t called the police, and finally I was going to be able to go home. The ceremony ended, and a frantic student body officer teacher came searching through the halls for me. Along with her was a man named David that my dad works with. “Jojo, you’re here!” They exclaimed when they found me, looking totally relieved. “Mrs. Dorp, David!” I shook my head feeling so embarrassed. My dad must have called the house and found out that I wasn’t there! “Oh my gosh, he called my student government teacher? Ugh, this is so embarrassing; I wish that I was invisible!” I thought wishing that I could just sink through the floor and never return. “Yep, I found her.” Said David in his deep voice, he was talking into a cell phone. He said a few more brief words into the phone and Mrs. Dorp told me how relieved she was that I was safe and sound. David took me home and everything was alright for the rest of the night. I was just glad to be home.