Daily Free-Write September 25, 2020

Just a little concept another 'champ' I know came up with. What if you had the option to go into adult preschool instead of the world of adult responsibilities after high school? Well, that idea sounds great to me. This feels like it could be the first chapter in yet another story of regression and rebirth. What do you think? Let me know in the comments!

High school was dragging on, and I didn't feel like my life was going anywhere. A bold statement for a mere teen, I know, but I had seen what my older brothers went through, trying to start careers, constantly struggling to make ends meet. There was just nothing I really wanted to do, and I didn't have the motivation to get through a trade school or college. Near the end of my senior year, I finally dragged my ass over to the career center. It was supposedly a great resource in the middle of the quad that nevertheless often went unused. The lady who was there did a double take when I walked in. She seemed happy to actually have someone visit, and when I told her my issue, she kindly pointed me toward the 'fresh start' program for teens and young adults.

"Isn't that, that baby brainwashing program?" I asked, skeptically.

"Only for criminals," she replied. "There are plenty of perfectly law-abiding citizens that join through this route as well."

My counsellor said pretty much the same thing. I scoffed and blew it off as a possibility, but by the time I got my final grades, the prospect of eschewing work and adult responsibilities for a little longer seemed pretty attractive.

I tried to make a go at it, working 7 days a week at a grocery store and getting basically abused by the general public as well as the management. One day a lady came through demanding I watch her kids while she went shopping. The little brats tore apart the dairy section and moved onto the eggs, and of course there was nothing I could really do. She complains to the manager when she finds her kids covered in yogurt and eggs, the manager demands I pay for all of the destroyed product, and I decide I've had enough and walk out right there and then. That's how I found myself angry, frustrated, on the verge of tears, and dialing that number to see about a fresh start.

It came as a surprise to everyone when I announced I would be headed out to 'adult preschool'. I heard of a few kids from my high school who went straight out of graduation, but I was the first that any of us knew to try it, and the reactions went about as expected. My parents were angry. My dad said I was a quitter and my mom said she wouldn't see me like that, heavily implying that if I left them, I left for good. My brothers were split on the matter. The two eldest were largely of the same opinion as my parents, the next two were supportive, and Jacob, who was only a year or two older than me, was just amused.

"Tell me how you like being a big baby after you're done, little bro!"

He joked a lot about keeping crayons and stuff like that handy if I ever came to visit, and I just laughed it off. I wasn't going to change *that* much, was I?

When the time finally came to go, it was my brother Steve who drove me to the airport. He and my other two supporters gave me big hugs and hopeful goodbyes, and like that I was off to my new destination. When I checked in, they directed me to a special waiting area, where a couple of friendly assistants in uniforms with 'Fresh Start' tags pinned to their chests were herding the other program participants.

"Hello, I'm here for the Fresh Start program?"

"Hey little guy, sure thing, let me get you marked on the list." A young woman in her mid-twenties looked through a list of mostly checked off names. ''

She had the air of a camp counsellor, bubbly and excited, watchful, yet ready to ease the anxieties of the big kids on their first day away from home.

Here we are! Zack Armstrong. Gotcha on the list! Go ahead and have a seat, make some friends!"

I sat down near a guy about my age and a young lady with coke bottle glasses and pigtails who was hunched forward, biting her lip and looking around.

"Hey, bro, you're in the program too huh?"

I looked at him for a minute, but I couldn't place him.

"Do I know you?"

"Trevor! Trevor J. The captain of the football team? I go to your high school? Went to your high school, I mean."

"Oh! Uh, yeah, yeah. We had math class together, right?"

"Yeah, if you're here I'm guessing you did about as well as me."

"Yeah..." I said, looking down. "I didn't think I had many prospects out there in the real world, so... here I am!"

"Hey, buddy, don't worry about it. It's the same with me. I didn't get picked for any sports scholarships and, well, I sure as hell didn't wanna end up like my old man, reliving his glory days 30 years later."

I felt bad for him. Guess the stereotype was true, at least for some. Some peoples' lives really did end after high school.

I decided to change the topic by turning to the nervous girl across from us.

"Hey there, what's your name? What are you in for?" I said, hoping to lighten the mood.

"A-Amanda," she said, fidgeting and looking at her hands.

"Nice to meet you Amanda."

"W-we'll see," she said. "Just don't believe all the rumors about me. I promise they're only mostly true." She gave a high-pitched snort-giggle, and Trevor and I exchanged glances. Weirdo!

We were saved from our awkward attempt at conversation by the Fresh Start people, who began herding us into line formation, and counting heads. If that didn't clue me into the strangeness of what I was getting into, the special harness belts set up for us in our plane seats sure did.

"These fresh start people really lay it on thick," I muttered as I sat down in my seat. Amanda stopped behind me and looked up at the numbers, squinting as if deciphering a dead language.

"Hey! Seat buddies!" she exclaimed.

My silent prayers for her to keep moving had not been answered.

"Greaaat," I said with as much false enthusiasm as I could muster. This was going to be a long flight, I could already tell.