Care For Me Not, I'll Hurt You Too Much
Never Knowing the World Around You
You walk through life never knowing, never seeing anything beyond your reach. You long for everything you don't have. Compassion, love, romance, adventure, mystery. You always hide away when you get time on your own or to yourself to your imaginary world where you have all these things. Pathetic right? You shut yourself away to stay alone in your head, making your own life and your own stories as you walk the empty streets of your simple suburban town.
People around you don't know you. You often begin to believe that they don't want to try at all. Most of the kids in school make wide berths around you just so that they don't have the pleasure of bumping into your pale thin body. You never knew how much people avoid you until you finally decide to look one day…
You look around the small cafeteria, made to seat the 9th (and largest) class comfortably, but forced to endure the piles of Juniors, and Seniors being herded in by uncaring teachers. You see everyone sitting together, joking and laughing amongst themselves. It's then that you recognize that you don't know anyone's names, let alone their faces. You have been at this school, with these same people for the past three years, yet you know not one name of anyone around you.
The line you suddenly found yourself in moves, you follow. You notice how around you, in all directions, there is at least a foot of space. No one is touching you as you stand with your arms crossed over your chest. One step is all it takes for the traffic to back up once again, causing the sudden hunger you barely knew you were feeling to make itself known. Your stomach grumbles, causing muffled giggles and stares to creep to your senses from behind you. You're feeling curious, so you turn your head around slightly, to see just who it is that is laughing at you as you stand there.
You're met by a pair of blue eyes, dull and plain. They're surrounded by a muscular face with prominent cheek bones and jaw. The short wavy blonde hair circling that makes this person scream 'athletic hero'. The smile slowly playing across his lips makes your usually pale face burn red from the heat now flooding to your face. You have no idea why your cheeks burned red. Did you have a sudden attraction to this creature standing in front of you? Is this what you remember to be embarrassment?
You drop your eyes, avoiding his gaze as you scan his chest. His light blue polo shirt clings to a muscular structure, aided by the black and turquoise letterman jacket stretched across his broad shoulders. The white letters bare a large DHS with a cartoon hawk encircling the D protectively, as if it were its young. You barely notice you're staring until you see him lean forward slightly, causing your ears to burn bright behind your hair.
"You can move up you know." His voice is soft, but there is a hint of amusement to it as he smiles.
You turn back to see that the small girl wearing a bright purple sweater in front of you has just signed her number on the provided clip board. You take a step forward, leaning in to write you number quickly. It becomes a flourish of movements as if you had done it a million times before. This amazes you as you stare down at your hand moving of its own accord.
135 it writes. This means that there were 135 people before you in your class. Funny, you don't remember there being that many students in the 11th grade. Let alone the school.
You snap back to reality, hearing a person clear their throat loudly in front of you. You look up to see an aging woman wearing an unflattering hairnet over slightly graying, dark brown hair. She smiles and her eyes light up behind her glasses at you. Your mouth pulls into a smile, something you never knew it could do. This seemed to be natural to her as she doesn't at all seem as surprised as you do at this display of feeling.
She turns around, her back now facing you as you wonder what it is that you did wrong. Was it the smile? Is that why she so suddenly turned away? You begin to contemplate the options you have now. She was supposed to be feeding you, but she turned her back on you. What do you do? Do you turn and walk away? Going unfed for the rest of the day? Or do you stand here and protest that you get something in your system, for fear of fainting in class. Just as your head tells you to begin to walk away, she turns back.
"Here you go Kendall." She knows your name. This surprises you slightly as she holds out a plate similar to the rest of them but this one has a different meal on it. Vegetables, a handful of grapes in a separated compartment, rice porridge with raisins resting neatly in the sauce created. It had basically everything all the other plates had, except...no meat.
You look down at the other plates, just to be sure. Where what you believed to be a turkey sandwich was supposed to be was now replaced by what seemed to be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She smiles as you shakily reach out and grab the small plate with both hands, exposing the broken handcuff you wore on your right wrist.
The lady smiles and looks at you expectantly as you stand there, confused. How did she know your diet? How did she know your name? What do you do now? She smiles still, as you stand and stare blankly at her expectant face.
"Thank you." the words come out softly. You reach up and touch your lips, surprised that your mouth was capable of producing sound. What happened, did you just speak?
"You're welcome dear, eat up." she says, turning to the athletic boy behind you as she begins to give him the daily special.
You have no choice but to turn and walk away, unsure all of a sudden on where to go. You don't remember anything about doing this before, yet your feet carry you to a small tray packed with silver forks, knives, and spoons. Your hand unknowingly reaches out and grabs a fork and a napkin from the dispenser perched precariously beside it. You're still staring at the movements your body is doing not to your intention as your feet turn you and take you to a small crate sitting five feet away from the silver ware. Your hand reaches in and touches something, a carton. You pull it back out and stare longingly at the fruit juice now clutched in your fist. This amazes you that you were able to perform this action, taking no effort or thinking at all on your part.
Your feet turn you around as you stare dumbly at the tiled floor. As soon as your eyes look up, you are met with a sea of heads and faces all minding their own business as you stand, looking among the crowd at everyone enjoying themselves for lunch. Suddenly, you are aware that you are slouching, and that you are biting your lip nervously. Your ears redden once again as you feel like everyone is watching you, while they are, in reality, not paying any attention to you at all.
You're carried, unknowingly by a force pulling your feet across the floor, to a table in the far corner of the cafeteria. Familiarity sweeps through you from an unknown place in your mind. You see the same beaten chairs, and the same graffiti table that seems oddly pleasant to you. You sit with your back to both adjoining walls, facing the crowd forming before you.
People play thumb games, girls lean in and whisper what you know is gossip to others, who smile and stare approvingly, or disgusted at the subject in question. You see everyone's lives playing out in front of you as more and more people pass by your table, where you sit...alone. You watch as more boys in letterman jackets swarm around you and sit by girls in noticeably short skirts and low cut tops. You feel your ears burn bright behind your hair as you see the boy you were staring at before smiling back at you before turning and laughing with his friends. The sudden change in his expression causes you to believe it was all part of your imagination as you look once again around the cafeteria.
Your fingers reach forward and wrap themselves around your sandwich, bringing it to your lips. You taste the jelly as you bite into it, but there is something else there. There is something other than the peanut butter that you can taste, a hint of metal. You stare at your plate as you run your tongue along your bottom lip, metal again. The cold steal ring wrapped around your lip causes a flashback of a tattoo parlor and a smiling metal-studded woman holding a needle to your face.
You shudder and shake away the memory as you subconsciously eat the rest of the food on your plate. The thought of needles left an unsettling feeling in your stomach, like it was being twisted into knots and your heart rate quickened. Your breathing became heavy as you leaned back in the uncomfortable chair provided. The room begins to spin and you clutch your chest from the shooting pain now ripping through it, tearing at your insides. It isn't until you find your hands digging through the bag you didn't know you had draped at your side wrapping around what felt to be a water bottle that you know something is happening that happened before. Your hand swiftly unscrews the lid, bringing the brim to your lips as you gulp down the water.
Your breathing returns to normal and your face feels tiny pin-pricks in it all along your cheekbones. You banish the thought of pins, an image making you feel dizzy and light headed. You look around to see if anyone noticed your alleged panic attack. No one has turned their head, no one is frowning at you, and no one looks concerned.
You look quickly back down at your plate to find that it is nearly clean. Picking it up, you spot trash bins lining the walls. Walking up, you dump what's left of your food into a bin and chuck your fork into a hole provided. You look to see if it was right and find other silverware nesting in it neatly. You place your plate among others, turning and looking once again among the sea of people. You see no one's heads turned, looking curiously in your direction. No one acknowledges your presence as you shuffle down the isle. No one asks you where you are going as you walk out the door.
As you step onto the asphalt of the side walk you realize, that's not the first time you have spent lunch alone.
(A/N: Comments are appreciated. I don't know if I should continue this story so please comment and tell me what you think.)
People around you don't know you. You often begin to believe that they don't want to try at all. Most of the kids in school make wide berths around you just so that they don't have the pleasure of bumping into your pale thin body. You never knew how much people avoid you until you finally decide to look one day…
You look around the small cafeteria, made to seat the 9th (and largest) class comfortably, but forced to endure the piles of Juniors, and Seniors being herded in by uncaring teachers. You see everyone sitting together, joking and laughing amongst themselves. It's then that you recognize that you don't know anyone's names, let alone their faces. You have been at this school, with these same people for the past three years, yet you know not one name of anyone around you.
The line you suddenly found yourself in moves, you follow. You notice how around you, in all directions, there is at least a foot of space. No one is touching you as you stand with your arms crossed over your chest. One step is all it takes for the traffic to back up once again, causing the sudden hunger you barely knew you were feeling to make itself known. Your stomach grumbles, causing muffled giggles and stares to creep to your senses from behind you. You're feeling curious, so you turn your head around slightly, to see just who it is that is laughing at you as you stand there.
You're met by a pair of blue eyes, dull and plain. They're surrounded by a muscular face with prominent cheek bones and jaw. The short wavy blonde hair circling that makes this person scream 'athletic hero'. The smile slowly playing across his lips makes your usually pale face burn red from the heat now flooding to your face. You have no idea why your cheeks burned red. Did you have a sudden attraction to this creature standing in front of you? Is this what you remember to be embarrassment?
You drop your eyes, avoiding his gaze as you scan his chest. His light blue polo shirt clings to a muscular structure, aided by the black and turquoise letterman jacket stretched across his broad shoulders. The white letters bare a large DHS with a cartoon hawk encircling the D protectively, as if it were its young. You barely notice you're staring until you see him lean forward slightly, causing your ears to burn bright behind your hair.
"You can move up you know." His voice is soft, but there is a hint of amusement to it as he smiles.
You turn back to see that the small girl wearing a bright purple sweater in front of you has just signed her number on the provided clip board. You take a step forward, leaning in to write you number quickly. It becomes a flourish of movements as if you had done it a million times before. This amazes you as you stare down at your hand moving of its own accord.
135 it writes. This means that there were 135 people before you in your class. Funny, you don't remember there being that many students in the 11th grade. Let alone the school.
You snap back to reality, hearing a person clear their throat loudly in front of you. You look up to see an aging woman wearing an unflattering hairnet over slightly graying, dark brown hair. She smiles and her eyes light up behind her glasses at you. Your mouth pulls into a smile, something you never knew it could do. This seemed to be natural to her as she doesn't at all seem as surprised as you do at this display of feeling.
She turns around, her back now facing you as you wonder what it is that you did wrong. Was it the smile? Is that why she so suddenly turned away? You begin to contemplate the options you have now. She was supposed to be feeding you, but she turned her back on you. What do you do? Do you turn and walk away? Going unfed for the rest of the day? Or do you stand here and protest that you get something in your system, for fear of fainting in class. Just as your head tells you to begin to walk away, she turns back.
"Here you go Kendall." She knows your name. This surprises you slightly as she holds out a plate similar to the rest of them but this one has a different meal on it. Vegetables, a handful of grapes in a separated compartment, rice porridge with raisins resting neatly in the sauce created. It had basically everything all the other plates had, except...no meat.
You look down at the other plates, just to be sure. Where what you believed to be a turkey sandwich was supposed to be was now replaced by what seemed to be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She smiles as you shakily reach out and grab the small plate with both hands, exposing the broken handcuff you wore on your right wrist.
The lady smiles and looks at you expectantly as you stand there, confused. How did she know your diet? How did she know your name? What do you do now? She smiles still, as you stand and stare blankly at her expectant face.
"Thank you." the words come out softly. You reach up and touch your lips, surprised that your mouth was capable of producing sound. What happened, did you just speak?
"You're welcome dear, eat up." she says, turning to the athletic boy behind you as she begins to give him the daily special.
You have no choice but to turn and walk away, unsure all of a sudden on where to go. You don't remember anything about doing this before, yet your feet carry you to a small tray packed with silver forks, knives, and spoons. Your hand unknowingly reaches out and grabs a fork and a napkin from the dispenser perched precariously beside it. You're still staring at the movements your body is doing not to your intention as your feet turn you and take you to a small crate sitting five feet away from the silver ware. Your hand reaches in and touches something, a carton. You pull it back out and stare longingly at the fruit juice now clutched in your fist. This amazes you that you were able to perform this action, taking no effort or thinking at all on your part.
Your feet turn you around as you stare dumbly at the tiled floor. As soon as your eyes look up, you are met with a sea of heads and faces all minding their own business as you stand, looking among the crowd at everyone enjoying themselves for lunch. Suddenly, you are aware that you are slouching, and that you are biting your lip nervously. Your ears redden once again as you feel like everyone is watching you, while they are, in reality, not paying any attention to you at all.
You're carried, unknowingly by a force pulling your feet across the floor, to a table in the far corner of the cafeteria. Familiarity sweeps through you from an unknown place in your mind. You see the same beaten chairs, and the same graffiti table that seems oddly pleasant to you. You sit with your back to both adjoining walls, facing the crowd forming before you.
People play thumb games, girls lean in and whisper what you know is gossip to others, who smile and stare approvingly, or disgusted at the subject in question. You see everyone's lives playing out in front of you as more and more people pass by your table, where you sit...alone. You watch as more boys in letterman jackets swarm around you and sit by girls in noticeably short skirts and low cut tops. You feel your ears burn bright behind your hair as you see the boy you were staring at before smiling back at you before turning and laughing with his friends. The sudden change in his expression causes you to believe it was all part of your imagination as you look once again around the cafeteria.
Your fingers reach forward and wrap themselves around your sandwich, bringing it to your lips. You taste the jelly as you bite into it, but there is something else there. There is something other than the peanut butter that you can taste, a hint of metal. You stare at your plate as you run your tongue along your bottom lip, metal again. The cold steal ring wrapped around your lip causes a flashback of a tattoo parlor and a smiling metal-studded woman holding a needle to your face.
You shudder and shake away the memory as you subconsciously eat the rest of the food on your plate. The thought of needles left an unsettling feeling in your stomach, like it was being twisted into knots and your heart rate quickened. Your breathing became heavy as you leaned back in the uncomfortable chair provided. The room begins to spin and you clutch your chest from the shooting pain now ripping through it, tearing at your insides. It isn't until you find your hands digging through the bag you didn't know you had draped at your side wrapping around what felt to be a water bottle that you know something is happening that happened before. Your hand swiftly unscrews the lid, bringing the brim to your lips as you gulp down the water.
Your breathing returns to normal and your face feels tiny pin-pricks in it all along your cheekbones. You banish the thought of pins, an image making you feel dizzy and light headed. You look around to see if anyone noticed your alleged panic attack. No one has turned their head, no one is frowning at you, and no one looks concerned.
You look quickly back down at your plate to find that it is nearly clean. Picking it up, you spot trash bins lining the walls. Walking up, you dump what's left of your food into a bin and chuck your fork into a hole provided. You look to see if it was right and find other silverware nesting in it neatly. You place your plate among others, turning and looking once again among the sea of people. You see no one's heads turned, looking curiously in your direction. No one acknowledges your presence as you shuffle down the isle. No one asks you where you are going as you walk out the door.
As you step onto the asphalt of the side walk you realize, that's not the first time you have spent lunch alone.
(A/N: Comments are appreciated. I don't know if I should continue this story so please comment and tell me what you think.)