Extraordinary.
the deep lines.
Inhale. Exhale. I drew a deep line through the paper, cutting itself into the desk. I traced back over my line, moving backwards and taking deep breath after deep breath along the way, testing my concentration as I overlapped the lead. I moved down a fraction of a centimeter and drew another line, longer and more cutting than the first. Inhale. Exhale. This was my self-induced therapeutic technique. The notebook was full of lines, the paper alone already half consumed with the small bits of meaninglessness. No one would understand.
Hell, I don’t understand.
Inhale. Exhale. Another line and then another until my insides were floating and I felt weightless. I was relieved for the time being, because the repetitive motion had let me forget where I was and why I was and all of the confusion those simple things brought to mind. “Miss Harris!” My calm train of thought was derailed by a shrill, yet masculine, voice.
The midget teacher was pointing his stick at me. “Yes?” I asked, my voice was empty and even I almost flinched at the chill it brought around the room.
The bald midget slapped his pointer stick at the outdated black board, shoving a complex math problem in my face. The stick made a hard metallic sound as it was repeatedly rapped against the board until the short, bald man decided he’d successfully gotten my attention. It was all so unnecessary. “I’ve been trying to gain your attention, Miss Harris,” he shook his head, obviously ashamed of me. How dare I not pay attention during his class? How dare I not listen to him rant about x’s and other nonsense mathematical letters and equations? I sighed quietly to myself.
The small man continued to shake his head as he moved to find a new victim. Rolling my eyes I recaptured his attention. “Two x over negative d squared.”
His dark eyes scanned over me, reevaluating the potential new kid slacker. “Excuse me?”
“The answer to your problem,” the words were sticky in my mouth and came out as dry as my tongue. I’d been in this school for too long, I was beginning to fear that the cycle would never end and I’d have to put up with the nuisance named Mr. Hedgegrove for the rest of eternity.
Mr. Hedgegrove moved as fast as his short legs could take him towards his desk, using his finger to guide his way along the text of his math book. I knew I was right, I was never wrong, but he obviously felt the need to doubt me everyday. Maybe it was because I was new everyday and I couldn’t quite gain his trust in the first thirty minutes of class. “That’s correct,” he smiled up at me with the same toothy grin as always.
My stomach churned and my head grew heavy as he turned to the rest of the class, explaining that this was the ambition that he hoped to see in everybody. The kids around me groaned and glared in my direction. How could such a new kid gain such approval when it seemed so impossible twenty minutes before? I didn’t know either so I glared at myself disapprovingly. How dare I, right?
I continued with my lines, breathing in and out and comforting myself in the monotony. You’d think I’d have gone insane from it by this point, but I guess even when I was younger it was soothing. A rocking chair to sleep, the schedule of my mother’s hectic life style, it was all so beautiful and wonderful before it became this curse.
The soft bell rang, deluded by the chorus of teenage voices and happy sighs as we all made our escape out into the dark, yet less threatening, hallways of North Blockstreet High. The name was familiar and left a roll in my tongue that I figured would be the only thing that I’d miss out of this damned place. My feet found the road to my locker effortlessly, placing me in front of the slightly rusted and groaning beast, pulling the backpack out from where it had been swallowed earlier today. Why was I here?
I mumbled to myself as my clumsiness got the best of me and the contents of my bag spilled out over my tennis shoed feet. I stood there, staring down at the spread of pencils and torn out papers, hoping for them to magically appear back in my bag, but it wasn’t happening so eventually I had to bend over and usher them all back into the small, black backpack. My spindly fingers shoved them ruthlessly, ignoring the bits of dark hair that fluttered into my face. I knew I looked ridiculous, I just didn’t feel the need to acknowledge it.
“You okay?” I deep voice chuckled from behind me, making me jump even though he hadn’t really scared me. I slung the bag over my shoulder, zipping it up noisily, before turning to face the tall boy. He had brown hair that was long enough to slip into his face and always cover his cerulean eyes. There was a kindness to the round shape of his features that I’d never seen in anybody of his stature. He stood a good foot over me, leaning effortlessly back on one leg, slouching didn’t stop him from towering over the rest of the student population.
Inhale. “Yeah.” Exhale. I gathered my wits as I shook my head and gently pushed past him. Maybe I could concentrate on him tomorrow, I told myself, not liking the idea a single bit. “I’m good,” I smiled up at the giant, trying to make my way down the hallway steadily. I knew his eyes were watching me retreat.
“See you tomorrow,” he called down the narrow hall, a cheerful echo to my otherwise boring and seemingly meaningless life. If only he knew the truth.
There is no tomorrow.
Hell, I don’t understand.
Inhale. Exhale. Another line and then another until my insides were floating and I felt weightless. I was relieved for the time being, because the repetitive motion had let me forget where I was and why I was and all of the confusion those simple things brought to mind. “Miss Harris!” My calm train of thought was derailed by a shrill, yet masculine, voice.
The midget teacher was pointing his stick at me. “Yes?” I asked, my voice was empty and even I almost flinched at the chill it brought around the room.
The bald midget slapped his pointer stick at the outdated black board, shoving a complex math problem in my face. The stick made a hard metallic sound as it was repeatedly rapped against the board until the short, bald man decided he’d successfully gotten my attention. It was all so unnecessary. “I’ve been trying to gain your attention, Miss Harris,” he shook his head, obviously ashamed of me. How dare I not pay attention during his class? How dare I not listen to him rant about x’s and other nonsense mathematical letters and equations? I sighed quietly to myself.
The small man continued to shake his head as he moved to find a new victim. Rolling my eyes I recaptured his attention. “Two x over negative d squared.”
His dark eyes scanned over me, reevaluating the potential new kid slacker. “Excuse me?”
“The answer to your problem,” the words were sticky in my mouth and came out as dry as my tongue. I’d been in this school for too long, I was beginning to fear that the cycle would never end and I’d have to put up with the nuisance named Mr. Hedgegrove for the rest of eternity.
Mr. Hedgegrove moved as fast as his short legs could take him towards his desk, using his finger to guide his way along the text of his math book. I knew I was right, I was never wrong, but he obviously felt the need to doubt me everyday. Maybe it was because I was new everyday and I couldn’t quite gain his trust in the first thirty minutes of class. “That’s correct,” he smiled up at me with the same toothy grin as always.
My stomach churned and my head grew heavy as he turned to the rest of the class, explaining that this was the ambition that he hoped to see in everybody. The kids around me groaned and glared in my direction. How could such a new kid gain such approval when it seemed so impossible twenty minutes before? I didn’t know either so I glared at myself disapprovingly. How dare I, right?
I continued with my lines, breathing in and out and comforting myself in the monotony. You’d think I’d have gone insane from it by this point, but I guess even when I was younger it was soothing. A rocking chair to sleep, the schedule of my mother’s hectic life style, it was all so beautiful and wonderful before it became this curse.
The soft bell rang, deluded by the chorus of teenage voices and happy sighs as we all made our escape out into the dark, yet less threatening, hallways of North Blockstreet High. The name was familiar and left a roll in my tongue that I figured would be the only thing that I’d miss out of this damned place. My feet found the road to my locker effortlessly, placing me in front of the slightly rusted and groaning beast, pulling the backpack out from where it had been swallowed earlier today. Why was I here?
I mumbled to myself as my clumsiness got the best of me and the contents of my bag spilled out over my tennis shoed feet. I stood there, staring down at the spread of pencils and torn out papers, hoping for them to magically appear back in my bag, but it wasn’t happening so eventually I had to bend over and usher them all back into the small, black backpack. My spindly fingers shoved them ruthlessly, ignoring the bits of dark hair that fluttered into my face. I knew I looked ridiculous, I just didn’t feel the need to acknowledge it.
“You okay?” I deep voice chuckled from behind me, making me jump even though he hadn’t really scared me. I slung the bag over my shoulder, zipping it up noisily, before turning to face the tall boy. He had brown hair that was long enough to slip into his face and always cover his cerulean eyes. There was a kindness to the round shape of his features that I’d never seen in anybody of his stature. He stood a good foot over me, leaning effortlessly back on one leg, slouching didn’t stop him from towering over the rest of the student population.
Inhale. “Yeah.” Exhale. I gathered my wits as I shook my head and gently pushed past him. Maybe I could concentrate on him tomorrow, I told myself, not liking the idea a single bit. “I’m good,” I smiled up at the giant, trying to make my way down the hallway steadily. I knew his eyes were watching me retreat.
“See you tomorrow,” he called down the narrow hall, a cheerful echo to my otherwise boring and seemingly meaningless life. If only he knew the truth.
There is no tomorrow.