Irritated

*BANG BANG BANG!!!* The door reverberated under the relentless assault of furious knocking.

"YOU WAKE UP NOW! I WILL BREAK THIS DOOR IF YOU STILL WON'T WAKE UP!" A raspy, irate voice accompanied the pounding.

"YOU ARE ABOUT TO BE LATE, YOU MOTHERF***ER!" The middle-aged man's anger was palpable as his voice echoed through the door.

Inside the room, the young boy stirred, irritated by the commotion.

"Ahh! What the heck?!" He grumbled, reluctantly emerging from his slumber. "Just woke up, and my dad's already screaming his head off. What does he mean by 'late' anyway?" The boy mumbled as he gradually shook off his drowsiness. "Late for what, anyway?" It took a moment, but then realization hit him. "F***! I'm late..."

Without wasting any more time, the young man flung the door open. "What's going on?!" He shouted back, irritation evident in his voice.

Ignoring his father's continued ranting, the young man made a beeline for the kitchen, which also served as the bathroom.

As he rushed to the kitchen, he cast a glance over his shoulder and saw his siblings already on their way out. "My siblings are already heading out. I'm definitely late again," he thought ruefully.

In the kitchen, he scanned the table quickly, then zeroed in on his target: a piece of bread. He grabbed it and chomped down, washing it down with a glass of water. After gulping down the water, he carelessly placed the empty glass back on the table but then heard the sound of shattering glass.

"Huh?!" The young man blinked, then sighed, realizing what had just happened. "I'll be even later if I clean that up," he decided and chose to ignore the broken glass in his haste.

His father, on the other hand, erupted in anger at the sound of the breaking glass. His shouts grew louder, his frustration escalating.

However, the young man had no intention of giving his father more ammunition. He dashed into the bathroom and took a quick shower, efficiently getting ready for the day ahead. Once he was done, he hurried back to his room, tuning out his father's continued tirade.

Minutes passed, and he found himself standing outside the school. But his expression soured as he realized something was amiss.

"Damn! Did I wear the Tuesday uniform on a Monday?" The young man muttered, his frustration clear. "It's Monday, for f***'s sake."

"F***!" He exclaimed, startling the students around him. "What a day of bad luck."

The young man found himself summoned to the principal's office for his continuous rule violations.

"Ah, s***! What a day..." he grumbled to himself.

"Why do you think you're here?" The elderly woman behind the desk asked sternly, peering at him over her glasses.

"Ahh... s***! What a day of bad luck..." he muttered under his breath.

"Wolford, do you have a thing for cursing? Swearing early in the morning and almost being late for school. I called you in here mainly because of your uniform," the principal stated, a mix of kindness and strictness in her demeanor.

The elderly lady had been running the school for over a decade. She was known for her kind heart and unwavering dedication to discipline. Wolford had been summoned to her office after swearing at the school gate, prompting concern.

Wolford, however, did not linger at this school during his eighth grade year. He had spent a year elsewhere before returning to this school a month ago.

The reason for his transfer was twofold: to make friends and to escape his cousin, Camille.

Wolford shared a close bond with Camille. They were not typical cousins, often cuddling and helping each other with school projects. Despite their affection, they didn't live in the same house or building.

Wolford stayed with his father, a man whose constant complaints and instructions had accumulated over the years. It had driven a wedge between them, making Wolford resent his parents.

Wolford's family hadn't actually done anything to harm him, but their constant nagging had fueled his hatred. The endless expectations had become unbearable, leaving him with an inner demon of resentment.

Over time, however, that resentment had transformed into something more complex. It was no longer pure hatred, but rather a blend of memories and connection to his family.

Wolford's year at a different school had introduced him to new friends. Unfortunately, his initial choice of friends had been far from ideal.

The friends he initially made were the type who cared little for school. Wolford couldn't fathom their priorities, which revolved around drinking and neglecting their education.

While Wolford wasn't at the top of his class, he didn't squander his parents' efforts on reckless behavior. He carried expectations on his shoulders, and his parents' constant guidance had turned into a nightmarish barrage of demands.

Wolford had endured this throughout his childhood, and it had built up a deep well of frustration. He had lived through years of relentless expectations and instructions, which had left him hating his parents.

It might seem strange to outsiders, but for Wolford, this was his reality. A life fueled by his parents' endless expectations and his growing resistance to their constant demands.

Wolford's parents had never intentionally harmed him, but the weight of their relentless guidance had become too much. It was a heavy burden that had pushed him toward resentment and rebellion.

The ceaseless words of his parents had become a never-ending nightmare, echoing in his ears like a constant barrage of criticism. Wolford's hatred for his parents had festered over the years, transforming into something akin to a dark inner demon.

But as time passed, that hatred had morphed into a more complex set of emotions. It was no longer just blind loathing; it had evolved into a blend of memories and connections with his family.

His year at the other school had offered a temporary respite. There, he had made friends, although they weren't the kind of friends he had initially hoped for.

The first group of friends he had chosen were the type who cared little for school. They prioritized partying and shunned their educational responsibilities. Wolford couldn't fathom their choices, and it baffled him that they could waste their parents' efforts so carelessly.

Despite the initial poor choice in friends, Wolford's time at the school had eventually led to new friendships, ones that he cherished deeply.

Now, as he stood before the school principal's office, he couldn't help but reflect on the journey that had brought him here.

The elderly principal regarded him with a mix of kindness and sternness, her gaze peering over her glasses. "Wolford, do you have a penchant for cursing? Swearing early in the morning and nearly being late for school. I've called you in primarily because of your uniform," she said, her tone a balance between understanding and discipline.

The principal had been managing the school for more than a decade. Her reputation was built on a firm dedication to discipline and a kind heart. Wolford had been summoned to her office due to his swearing at the school gate, which had raised concern.

Wolford's stay at this school during his eighth-grade year had been brief. He had spent most of the previous school year elsewhere and had only returned a month ago.

His decision to transfer schools had been driven by a desire to make friends and, perhaps more importantly, to escape his cousin, Camille.

Camille held a special place in Wolford's heart. They shared a unique bond, closer than typical cousins. They often cuddled, assisted each other with school projects, and provided unwavering support.

Despite their deep connection, they didn't reside under the same roof. Instead, Wolford lived with his father, a man whose constant complaints and instructions had become overwhelming.

Wolford's family had never intentionally harmed him, but their unrelenting expectations and guidance had taken a toll on him. It was a burden he carried, and the constant barrage of demands had strained his relationship with his parents.

Over time, the expectations had become unbearable, resulting in Wolford's resentment towards his parents. What had begun as frustration had evolved into something deeper, a blend of memories and connection to his family.

The year at the different school had introduced him to new friends, though his initial choice had been less than ideal.

His first group of friends cared little for their education, instead prioritizing partying and recklessness. Wolford couldn't comprehend their choices, especially how they could squander their parents' efforts.

Despite the rocky start, Wolford's time at that school had eventually led to friendships he cherished deeply. These friends were different, the kind he had hoped to find initially.

Now, as he stood before the principal's office, Wolford contemplated the journey that had brought him to this moment.

The principal, a wise and experienced educator, continued to assess him. "Wolford, your swearing habits are becoming a concern. Swearing early in the morning and almost being late for school. I've called you in today to discuss these issues and your uniform," she stated, her tone a mix of understanding and discipline.

Wolford listened, his thoughts drifting back to his cousin, Camille, who he had left behind when he returned to this school.

"Ah, I've been missing my cute cousin. I hope she's doing well. I'll visit you soon, my dear cousin. Please forgive your big brother for leaving you alone suddenly. I hope to see you again soon," he thought inwardly, a pang of longing in his heart.

Moments later, the principal offered a warm smile and spoke to Wolford, sharing her thoughts and concerns about his behavior.

Wolford, fully aware of his recent recklessness, nodded and considered the path ahead. It was a new chapter in his life, one where he would navigate the challenges of school, family, and friendships while seeking a balance between his past and his future..