Midnight Rain

The days passed by slowly in a haze. My days consisted of cleaning and getting to know Bill better. I had started to feel more comfortable in this strange place. I would hardly leave the house; I would only leave if Uncle Bill needed me to go to the store with him since he doesn’t know what I eat. He had given me a strange look when I told him I was a vegetarian. I had gotten him to buy me some morning star products along with some gallons of almond milk since I don’t drink regular milk.

Our conversations consisted of him getting to know me better. He had found out that I had a fairly good life before the accident, as Bill likes to call it. It doesn’t come up in conversation as much as I thought it would. I had told him about my good friend Ana. We had met in pre school and had been joined at the hip ever since. Her blond hair is what made her stand out from most of the people I was used to seeing in Idaho; where I was from. I had told him about the night I got a call from Ana’s mother Julie. She had called to inform me that Ana was hit by a drunk driver and had died on the way to the hospital. That night and that phone call still haunted my memory. I had once described Ana to him. I had told him about her blond hair and fare skin. Her eyes were a hazel color; they had more green in them then anything else. Her lips were a light pink and her smile was warm and bright.

When he had asked me about my old High School, I nearly snorted. I had to explain to him that my High School was a private Catholic school. We had to wear blue, black and white uniforms with a certain brand of socks and shoes. It cost a pretty penny to attend such a school. I had never understood why I had to get a better education at a cash eating school when I could have went to a public school and got the same education with no money fees added. Uncle Bill had given me the choice between a private school or a public one. It’s obvious the one that I chose.

I looked in the mirror in the bathroom. My black hair was let down. It was choppy and some strips were longer then the other. My skin was still a milky white, not that I minded, it was always like that. I had put on a thin rim of eye liner bringing out my deep blue eyes. I had on an Iron Maiden shirt that was high enough to where you could see the pink studded belt that was in the loops of my faded straight legged jeans.

“Amanda, are you ready to go yet?” Bill’s voice rang from, what it seemed like, the center of the stares. Uncle Bill liked to keep a bit of distance from me as I had asked him to. Sighing, I grabbed my black and white checkered back pack and walked out of the bathroom, turning off the light. I met Bill by the front door.

It was six thirty in the morning and he looked tired. His hair was ruffled up and his eyes drooped a little bit. He had on a AC/CD shirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants. I couldn’t help but smile at his tired stance.

“Do you want me to drive you or would you rather walk?” Bill asked yawning and digging the golden crystals from both sides of his eyes. I looked down and saw his dingy white house slippers on his feet. I could tell he hadn’t been awake nearly as long as I have.

I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. It could possibly be the anxiety that was bubbling in the pit of my stomach. It could, also, be the anxiousness running through my veins. My throat had went dry for the fifth time that morning as I said, “Nah, you go on back to bed. I’ll walk.” I smiled at him and slipped out of the door while he was trying to silence a yawn.

I started down the side walk. The sun hadn’t risen yet and the breeze was cooler then it was the day that I had arrived at Uncle Bill’s house. Some dead leaves scrapped across the side walk in the breeze. Uncle Bill had showed me how to get to the school the day before so the route was still fresh in my memory. I didn’t have to go to the office because we had also stopped in to get the things I would need for the year. I was a junior so it would be strange and queer to get settled into the same graduating class as mine would. Only this was different. These were people that I had never met before. I didn’t know their ways nor did I know their thinking process. The people at my old school were all to easy to read. I knew who the good ones were apart from the bad. They were all to obvious in their choice of words.

I came to a large building with a sign that says Huntington Beach High School out in the front. I noticed that some of the kids were getting there and going inside. I wasn’t sure what to do; so I followed in suit. I felt my anxiety rising in my stomach as I walked down the packed hall ways. There were all different kinds of people around me. There were people who wore tight jeans and a shirt with Skate Boarding companies sprawled across the front and back. Some kids wore jeans passed their asses with shirts that had different men on them. They were spewing out lyrics; their words going ninety a minute. I wasn’t sure what they were saying. Then there were people who had on board shorts and a tank top. There were others who had on nice looking jeans with a shirt that had the logo from Aerospatiale or Hollister. I had gotten some strange looks from people as I made my way to my locker. I quickly undid the lock and began to, neatly, put textbooks, binders and notebooks inside the box made of metal. It was a faded blue color with half way torn off stickers on the inside from the people who had the locker before me.

I pulled my classes list out from my back pocket and saw that I had AP English first. I was getting out the things I would need for my English class thinking about what my Uncle had told me about AP courses. Apparently, AP courses are collage prep. Since I had went to a private school last year, I was learning things that they are learning this year. It was complicated and confusing to me but I had just nodded my head and never questioned Uncle Bill’s judgment. I shut my locker door and put my backpack on one shoulder.

I made my way down C hall looking for room C 12. I found it and walked inside. The walls were bare as ever. The seats were in rows facing the front. The teacher, Mr. Rivers, was sitting at his desk that was on the side of the room by the wall. He was older in age. He was missing some white hair is various places. He was plump for his age. He had on round clear glasses, hiding his brown eyes that were growing duller with time. He looked up at me and smiled. The bell rang and that’s when I felt many eyes on me. The anxiety was rising slowly. I forced a small smile towards the teacher.

“Class we have a new student.” Mr. Rivers stated getting up from his seat. He walked over to me and crossed her arms. He looked at the class while I turned my eyes to the floor wishing all the unwanted attention would go away. I had taken my medicine the night before and this morning so I assumed everything would go by smoothly. “So tell us a bit about yourself dear.” His voice was soft and suttle- something you would suspect from an older person.

I stayed silent and licked my dry lips. I could feel my legs begin to turn to water. All I wanted was to run out of the door and never go back. I could try to talk my Uncle Bill into letting me take classes online. I swallowed the lump in my throat before starting. “My name is Amanda. I moved here from Idaho.” I shrugged my shoulders and glanced around the room looking at something different ever so often so I wasn’t directly looking at any one. I could feel my palms grow sweaty. I wanted it to stop.

“Well I’m obviously not going to get anything else out of you.” Mr. Rivers grumbled in an irritated voice. “Go take a seat by Haner in the back row. Haner raise your hand or something. If I see any pranks or shenanigans being played on this girl you will get written up.” Mr. River said loudly. Some of the students grumbled and some scoffed. I glanced up and saw a guy with his hand raised. I saw the seat next to him. Lucky for me I didn’t have to do down any isles. I knew I would trip over something. I took a seat; my anxiety toning down little by little but there was no doubt that it was still there.

“I’m Brian.” I heard a males voice say. I turned and looked at the guy that had his hand raised earlier; the one that the teacher had referred to as Haner. It was most likely his last name, I was almost sure. I looked at his face and then his attire. His black hair was slightly spiky. His skin was some what tan making his brown eyes stand out. He had a silver hoop through his nose and he had some art along his arms. He smirked at me. It was dazzling, nearly making me sigh but I held it back and nodded once in his direction before I took out my notebook, looking over a blank page.

“Why’d you move away from Idaho?” Brian asked. I could hear the curiosity in his voice covering his words thickly. I shifted in my seat. I didn’t need nor want anyone to find out why I moved here. I didn’t need to feel even more uncomfortable about this place then I already felt. I felt the anxiety rise in the pit of my stomach again. I didn’t say anything as Mr. Rivers started to talk about a dead Poet that I had already learned about and did a report on twice at my old school. He couldn’t tell me something I didn’t already know about the person so I tuned him out along with Brian who kept asking questions without getting his answers.