I Won't Call This Hell

I sighed again, but moved forward with the crowd.

Really, I wanted to shout, this is how hard it is to get out of this damn place!

I had already tried pushing through the mall crowd around me, repeatedly apologizing to everyone I nudged in the process. You can only get so far maneuvering around busy shoppers in a crowded mall. I drifted to the side and waited for the crowd to thin a little (please God), leaning my back against the wall and welcoming the small breeze I felt there from the people walking.

I closed my eyes and let my head fall back. I felt sort of at ease here, in this all-too crowded building. Sure, it was loud and hot. That was constant, though, and all the noise seemed to blend together into one giant hum. Plus, I wasn't still at home, working on the three-page essay I'd needed to write. The paper was typed, laying right beside my laptop, with my signature scrawled across the top. It was ready to be handed in at my next lecture, which I was ready to avoid at all possible.

Still relaxed against the wall, I listened to everything that wasn't blending with everything else. I heard a baby wailing and a close conversation that I couldn't help but listen to, even though I tried my best to block out. Thankfully, I missed most of the conversation, which made me feel a little better. My business was my business, and I shouldn't listen to anyone else's.

I let out a gasp, my eyes shot open, and I stumbled to grab onto something as I had suddenly lost my balance. Or, someone had made me lose my balance.

After getting a hold of my bearings, I stared at the boy who had hit me. He had returned to his circle of friends, as if nothing had happened.

"Excuse me," I said, and I pushed my way into their little gathering, "aren't you going to apologize?"

"I said I was sorry," the boy said. He had a half-smile on his face. You know, what should be a smile, but usually comes across as an arrogant smirk. He had to be in his late teens, early twenties, around my own age. He wastall very tall, at least a whole head taller than me. His eyes were a light brown, his hair a brown mess. "You must not have heard me."

"I heard you," I said, "I heard most of the things you guys said about me, and the other girls walking around." The boy's face reddened a little as his friend's looked on, making ooh-ing noises and laughing. "You should say sorry, though."

"I'm sorry," he said. He held out his hand to me, "I'm John."

"I'm not going to shake your hand," I told him.

"Can I have your name, then?"

"Sure. If you somehow create a time machine, and travel back in time ten minutes ago and say hello before you talked about me, knocked me over, and rudely ignored me afterward."

I then smiled one last time, and waved at him and his friends before turning around and falling instep with the crowd again. I'd gotten my sorry, and thats all I needed.