Clouds

“His head is always in the clouds,” I overheard my teacher tell my parents. 

“Is that a bad thing?”  My mom asked tentatively.  It was probably the fact her head was in the clouds most of the time, but I knew the rumors weren’t true about either of us.  She was just using her art to escape the trauma of her childhood and growing up, but I had other plans with life. 

My father was in and out of my life so I was more into art than the sports he wanted me to like.  I wasn’t even sure he would stand up for me in this instance.  He often told me to pay more attention, but I could never get interested in what he wanted me to be interested in. 

“Are his grades suffering?  Is he missing any of his work?”  I sat up straighter as I heard my father’s voice. 

“No, but he is constantly drifting away and staring out the windows.” 
“So his grades are good, his work is done and you are worried he’s staring out the window?”  I was shocked he was standing up for me, but maybe he was starting to care? 

“Well, it’s more about the threats he is whispering while staring out the windows.” 

I cringed.  I had no idea I had been talking out loud the entire time.  I needed to make a run for it and fast.  If my parents realized what my plans were, we would all be dead.