Broken

Sophomore year.

Last year wasn't my best year. But on the bright side, this year couldn't get any worse, right? It can't get any worse. People are already beginning to ignore me. I'm not sure if that's positive, or horribly negative. I don't know which is worse; that I can find that positive, or that I'm actually hoping that everyone will ignore me.

Last year a few people tried talking to me. Some still do. But, I can never bring myself up to say a word. I totally blank out. I guess it's just like that. I like being alone, and I wouldn't mind being ignored. It's better than having all the attention on me. Anyways, I was at school right now and I just got my class schedules. I couldn't say that I didn't like my class, but I couldn't say that I was extremely ecstatic about it either. I got here after most students, and the bell just rang. I didn't want to go to class, not yet. So, I kept walking through the halls. I liked this; going through the empty halls, and watch some people hurry to class. The silence was so peaceful, like nothing could ruin it. Of course, I knew that this wasn't true. I know that there's bound to be chaos going out there right now. Because if there wasn't, that'd be chaos all on it's on. So, I passed through my assigned class three times before finally deciding to enter. Truthfully, I have no clue why I did it, I'm usually the first to get to class. At least that's how it was last year. But this year was different, I don't know how or why. But I didn't want to be the first one. Maybe I just took their comments from last year too seriously, it doesn't matter. I always told myself that I didn't care what others though, but I knew I was just lying to myself.

I entered the class and barely anyone looked up. It's like they knew it was just me, they knew my presence or something. I looked around the class and noticed most of the students, more or less. I came in right when the teacher, Mr. Kenney, told everyone to get up their chair so that he can assign seats. Everyone stood up and crammed on the walls; what a small class. . .

"Okay," Mr. Kenney started, "First off, we're going to assign all of this by the last names. But, since usually the people who has the last letters on the alphabet is ignored and all the way at the back, I'm going to start with those people on the front seat!" He laughed. Mr. Kenney, English teacher, was trying to make the students laugh, he was trying to lighten up the mood, and it wasn't working. I smiled at him when he scanned the class, but he didn't seem to have seen me. He started putting people in order. "Bravo, Amy? Yes, you sit on the last desk second to last row..." Finally, he called my name, "Abbott, Carson. . . Hm, you sit on the third to last desk at the back row. Thank you." I got to my seat and expected me to be pretty much the last person in class, and was profusely shocked when another name was called after mine, "Jason Aalan? Is there a Jason Aalan in this class?" Mr. Kenney kept repeating. Most of the class looked around to see if anyone would just magically appear, but no one came. We all pretty much shrugged it off and continued to speak of the “exciting adventure we will all experience in this class of literature!” Whatever.

Half way through class, a tall boy with faux hawk styled black hair came through the door. Everyone looked up, and the boy looked at the class. The boy went up to Mr. Kenney, and said, “Uhm, hi? My name is Jason Aalan?” It sounded like a question more than a statement.

Mr. Kenney stopped his blabbing on and on about who-knows-what, and looked at Jason. “Well, about time you came, Mister . . . Aalon . . .?” Mr. Kenney skimmed through his seating chart and pointed to the seat beside me, “That’s where you are going to be seated. The second last chair, at the last row.” Jason nodded and headed to his seat with a cocky smile plastered on his face.