Gone

My mind wanders as I flow down a river of darkness. Slowly color and light flood my vision. I see the deep beautiful, blue sky above containing the bright, shining sun. The light is too much for my eyes so I cover my view of it with my arm. Continuing to look around i see grass. The lush sea of deep green fills me. I breath out and see that I'm in a field. Finally I've escaped from people, the world, and life it's self.

"Miss Visconti, would you mind?!" Mr. Blake asks as he glances from me to the board. As if my daydreaming is interrupting his science class. It's not like I just turned around and started bitching about how fucked up the people in this class are. Though to I would make a sound. As if I'm mute.

I hear Holly's and Jennifer's laughter behind me. Evil little hags are all they are. Them and the rest of the barbies and jocks here. Their laughing is repulsive. Like nails on a chalk board. I stay alert. Aware of the warning. Time for another 'joke' today. I wonder which outcast they chose this time. I look at the clock and just a few minutes till the bell rings. Guess I'll find out soon.

RRRIIINNNGG

Finally. I move carefully. I breath a sigh of relief. I'm in the clear. As I take my first step out the door I hear it. "WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?!" I knew that voice. Poor, poor Zachary. He was today's victim.

I walk faster as I see the two of them speed walking out of the lab. Mr. B didn't know it was them. In the background i could hear his confused voice at what had happened. Guessing the prank was pretty bad this time.

That's behind me now though. I shouldn't grow to fond of certain things. My curiosity could get me in trouble so i stay quiet and calm as I walk to my locker. Last class on Friday was over but, the horrid week end was following behind it.

There it is locker 2065. I open it quickly, yet silently, I grab my backpack and my novel and storm off. Nobody pays attention to me. One of the great things of being a loser. No one cares. If you happened to die the next day people would stare off and have a "Who the fuck is that?" look.

That isn't what's in-store for me. Or at least not by my own hand. I'm not the suicidal type. Surprisingly, I'd rather run away. Escape from this state. Everything here only brings sadness. My family is full of hate, dispare, and lies. So the only way I can deal with my life is to run away. To disappear. To be gone.