My hands are sweaty, and my stomach is twisting.
My heart sinks as I reach for the doorknob.
Oh no, I whisper to myself as my hand trembles with fear.
I know that I am trouble. I am ten minutes late.
I missed getting home on time today. Why did I walk so slowly? I ask myself.
At the age of 13, I know the rules all too well. If I don’t get
home from school by 3:15, Mom locks me out of the house...
I know that I could be spending the next hour or so sitting on the cold pavement
of the driveway in punishment for being late...