Finish That Thought #47 (Judge's Comments)
Prompt: Sometimes it seems like whoever's arranging the soundtrack to my life is watching the wrong thing.
Special Challenge: Include a Billy Joel song reference: lyrics, title, whatever
Sometimes it seems like whoever's arranging the soundtrack to my life is watching the wrong thing. I sat on my bed with my report card in hand wondering what my dad would say. As if to mock me, the headphones draped around my neck started pulsing “Well my heartbeat is running wild-”
“I’m not a problem child!” I shouted at my iPod as I hit the next button. “Geez, can’t you give me some encouragement or something? I’m about to be fed to the lions!”
“Well my soul checked out missing as I sat listening
To the hours and minutes tickin' away
Yeah just sittin' around waitin' for my life-”
That track got skipped, too. I yanked my headphones off and threw them across the room. The crash brought in my mom.
“Kelsi! When did you get home from school?” She stood in the doorway with a mixing bowl propped on her hip. “Do you want a snack?”
I got up and retrieved my headphones. They immediately went around my neck again and I crawled back onto my bed to save my report card from Mom’s prying eyes.
“No thanks,” I muttered.
“Oh, is that your report card? How’d you do?”
The headphones went back on. Mom sighed and left.
I don’t know how long I sat there skipping music tracks, returning to a skipped song to listen to it in full, and forming what I would say to Dad when he got home. Eventually the front door rattled as keys unlocked it and Dad’s voice echoed in the hall.
“Welcome home!” Mom’s voice echoed next as she rushed to the front door. Even the smoosh was audible. Yuck.
“Kelsi home yet?”
Whispering. Great. I rolled over on my stomach and waited for the onslaught. Good Day Sunshine blared away in my ears. I gave up trying to match the music with my mood.
“Report card today, isn’t it, Kels?” I looked up and saw Dad leaning against my doorframe.
“Yeah.” I handed it to him when he stretched his hand out for it. His brows furrowed as he studied it. Uh oh.
“My English teacher is retarded.”
“Is that why you have a D?”
“We drown our doubts in dry champagne
And soothe our souls with fine cocaine
I don't know why I even care
We'll get so high and get nowhere-”
“Ok, I get it, I’m a drunk loser!”
I realized a little too late that Dad would take that personally.
“What did you say, young lady?”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I mumbled.
“Oh, is there someone else asking you about these low grades?”
Sarcasm. Great, I was in trouble.
“I don’t want to be your beast of burden...”
“Shut up!” Oops. Dad’s face went livid.
“I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know where I’ma gonna go when the volcano blows.”
Oh great, my iPod was finally on the right track.