Where the happiness smiles #4

Earthquake just hit me, that was my first guess, and it turned out to be the noise from my old school red analog clock, and was telling me it was six o’clock. I rubbed my right eye, then left eye with the left hand. That was my old habit; never used my right hand to rub anywhere. I looked at the window, the sun shone on me, squinted my eyes. Another nice day. I did the morning routine, and started walking to the path to the dining room. When I made my first step to the staircase, another earthquake attacked me. I fell half the way to the downstairs, landed on the stair stage, and it hurt me as hell, discovering my brother laughing at me from the top floor. It was not my fault this time, I thought. “What’s up, bitch!” My brother must’ve shoved me, and I took it as his way of saying good morning. 
As he would pass by me and go down, I would push him back right away. “Sup, bitch!” I would say, grinning. In my mind, that would happen.
While I was struggling to get up, he went downstairs humming, and as I managed rising to one knee, my sister got down to the middle stage of the staircase, and said, “What the hell are you doing?” eyeing me who was battling with torment. At long last, reducing the pain, mostly around my neck, I stood up and headed to the meal room. Breakfast was all set. Everybody but my father sat down and began eating a fine meal. Afterwards, I studied my room for a minute, no blazer, freestyle, I thought. 
When I left the house, the car was gone, whereas a black shiny limousine was pulled over on the front road. “What the…” I babbled, astonished by how lustrous and cool it looked. A man came out of the driver seat. He was in the really neat black tuxedo and appeared to be fifty, and started walking towards me. He had plenty of grey hair which was tied in back, and was wearing a pair of very clean white gloves, speaking the British accent. “Hello, sah.” How are you feeling this morning?” He was skinnier and taller than me. 
“I’m well, thank you.” I replied in a not-well British accent. 
“Your brother is waiting for you in the cah so let’s get going, shall we?” He smiled at me,  and I followed him as he opened the door for me. He was laying on the couch kind of cream-coloured leather seat. Inside was decently purply dark, and seemed to be more than twelve people could be fitted. “Yo, I was waiting for you in ages,” he said, without moving his eyes and face to me. Just as I was about to say something the engine butted in, and he sat up and faced me. We stared at each other for a while, the turn-right of a car move cut the silence. I leaned on my back, while he basically tackled on me. I caught him gently. “Thanks. I should've worn a seatbelt.” He said a little timidly.
 He sat beside me this time, and started talking, “You know, today’s the first day of school, right? And I’m not too friendly unlike you so I’m feeling a bit nervous and uncomfortable. I don’t know how it’s gonna be. I don’t know if I can make friends, or or-” 
“Don’t be nervous. I remember,” I started, “when I was in grade nine, I hated school so much.”  
“Why?” He asked, frowning. 
“Cause they were a bunch of assholes, you know. Boys began trying to flirt with every single girl in the school, and because of that, girls started thinking that they are pretty or hot or whatever they say. But have they ever changed? Nope. So what did I do?”
“Bung girls?” He guessed, jesting.
“No, I changed. You can’t change people, but you can change yourself, right? I never gave shit to them ever since. I was just being who I was.”  
“What’s the point?” He said trying to figure out what I was talking about. Yet I was lost too. I didn’t even know what my point was and I wanted it to mean. 
“My point is,” I paused as if I was getting into a really significant part, “you have to be who you are no matter how other people think of you.” I said proudly. 
“I don’t get it, but okay, I’ll try. Thank you.” He said, grabbing his black no logo backpack, walking to the door, and the door got opened by a British gentleman saying have a wonderful day to my brother, whilst I was just realizing the car had been stopped. That was how hard I was trying to tell him something. I said see you later to him and vice versa. I saw him stop before going to the entrance of a grand old brick building. He seemed to become determined while then. He started walking confidently. He began being smaller and smaller, and was gone. I felt that it was a huge meaningful moment for him, and I put that moment in my heart too. Meanwhile, the black vehicle was running to somewhere.
“Where am I going exactly?” I asked the British man.