Lost In You

There he is sitting alone again. He sits on the floor in the far corner where no one bothers to sit because not enough light comes through the window and it's just very unpleasant. I have always wondered why he never uses an empty table. Hell, all of the ones back there are empty if anyone can help it. I myself find myself getting closer and closer to that corner, closer to him.
He doesn't talk to anyone. I've seen the look he gives everyone around him, as if he is disgusted with society. He is in two of my classes; English and art. He's a really good artist when he does draw. He carries a sketchbook with him in his messenger bag but of course no one is allowed to see. I find myself wanting to see what's in that plain black book.

Right after lunch I have English. He sits in the back on the left side beside the window. He likes gazing out at the trees that line the parking lot. I've seen him sketch the scene but I have never seen the finished work. I sit too far away, also in the back but the opposite side of the room. One time he caught me watching him. He glared at me and slammed his book shut as though I insulted his work. I try not to be obvious anymore.

"Can someone please tell me what sort of sickness Julius Caesar had?" no one spoke. No one raised his or her hand. He just stared out the window as a silver sedan pulled out of a spot and drove off the property. "Mr. Way, what was wrong with Caesar?" I felt bad since he wasn't even paying attention and was going to get in trouble.

"He was deaf in one ear and he had epilepsy of as they said, a falling sickness." he never once looked at our teacher who stood there blankly. I guess she was shocked he knew the answer when she was trying to humiliate him. He never get humiliated. I of course was impressed. He almost never spoke unless he had to like during attendance or when answering a question. He never raised his hand or spoke to others. When group work was assigned he would glower in a corner and refuse to participate. That's why he's failed two years. I only know that from stories though so it's not really accurate.

Art is okay but I'm not really good. I like it and I doodle in my books but I'm not as good as him. He is like... a present day Vincent Van Gogh, I bet he would cut his ear off too if he would never have to see people again.

"Today you are going to do a drawing. It’s going to be about you and what your present feelings are now, you have half of the period then I'll do a lesson." my art teacher said. She walked back and sat at her desk. Her favorite activity while we worked was Internet solitaire. It's what she did while she waited for us. We opened our sketchbooks and began. How did I feel right now? I glanced over at him who was scribbling away in that black book of his. I felt like a stalker. I absentmindedly began to draw myself looking through binoculars at a silhouetted person. I was in the bushes watching.

"Alright, pencils down and I will come and collect your work." she stood up and walked over to the closest table. He sat at his own table of course. She came around as we ripped the page out of our books and handed it to her. He looked unhappy... then again, he always looked unhappy. I handed my page to her as I wondered that. "I'm going to post them on the bulletin board and we are all going to come up and critic them." I glanced over to him. He was tensed up now as if someone was holding him at gunpoint. We all stood up and flooded towards the board. I stayed in the back at close to him as possible. Our teacher began tacking up the pages. I saw mine go right beside his and a rush of adrenalin flowed through me. His was in black pen. It was of someone sitting in the dark. You can't see their face but it seems as though they are unhappy. My heart was beating fast.

"The first one, what do you see?" it was of hearts swirling around a girls figure. She looked as though she was in love the way she looked up and had this dreamy expression on her face."

"Pink." I mumbled under my breath.

"Very good Frank. The tone is a light pink which could emphasize which emotions?"

"Love?"

"Good Carrie, anything else?"

"Warmth?" someone else said. He was new and I didn’t know his name.

"Could be. What is the expression on her face read?" she asked again.

"Love?" Carrie asked again.

"Yes okay, on to the next one." that was mine.

"Creepy." Julie shivered.

"Lame." Carrie sighed. I bit the inside of my cheek. He was looking at it, not with a glare but with a thoughtful expression.

"Too dark." Cassie complained. My teacher had enough and we moved on to his. It got similar answers to what mine received until I saw the pain in his face. His hazel eyes had a wet film over them and I couldn't help but feel really bad for him.

"Beautiful." I spoke up. People turned to stare at me. He looked at me for a brief moment and our eyes met each other. A microscopic smile appeared on his lips. I almost didn't consider it a smile, I didn't even know if he could smile since I have never seen he do it. His name was Gerard Way and he smiled at me.