Beautiful Mess

You would never know how weird it is being out of a white room for more than a day. Seriously, being near all of the Crazies in the ward made me, of all people, seem the most normal person in the whole damn hospital. That's a first for me at least, for about 2 years I actually felt like I was in a place I could kinda call "Home". But then again, who would want to be in a place filled with Witnesses and Believers-In-A-Stupid-Ideal-Made-By-A-Zombified-Jewish-Guy? Oh, I'm sorry, 'a Holy and Wonderful Son of G-d'. Ugh, I was there for too long anyways.

I finally got to school, fashionably late of course; who wouldn't? Then heading to the office and class was just so much fun because it felt like I was Saint Jimmy in the middle of my own Suburbia. What I'm trying to say is, I felt like Jesus myself. I was fucking God, but without all the pieces to my own puzzle. But it's not like I'll feel like I'm somebody forever. One day, all of us will just be specs of smoke and dust in the future. We once were in the past, right?

The time was now 9:15 and I saw people walking out of their classrooms and shockingly they looked as lost as I was. Well I guess I figure as much since it is only the end of September. As I was trying to avoid people in the hallways, I began to hear the others talking shit about me, but that's just a normal occurrence. Of course there's nothing wrong with being crippled and all, and don't get me wrong, I don't have anything against others who have physical disabilities, but it's not exactly "Normal" to see a high schooler around here with one arm and a half of another. I felt like running for my life for some reason just to get to class, but maybe that's just the feeling of avoiding everyone's eyes again. I then found my classroom, which was kinda like a separate wing in Westrell High. From the outside, the classroom looked humungous and somewhat ancient. I tried opening the door which, of course, was locked, then I began to knock, and knocked, and kept knocking until a young teacher ran up to me.

"Oh you must be Matthew Macbel, right? I'm glad you can finally join our class! Please do come in!"

I slowly inched in and walked up next to the teacher. I couldn't exactly see much due to my messy bed-head hair getting in the way of my face, but even I could tell there were around 20 to 30 other Specials here. Still, even today, I would've never thought I would be part of them. Huh, who knew?

"Could you please introduce yourself?"

"I'm Matthew Macbel."

"How old are you and why are you here?"

"First off, I'm 17 years old. Second off, why is that any of your business? I'm here because I'm here. I'm sorry that I'm getting bitchy with you Ms. Whoever-you-are, but even you should know that that's personal for someone to answer."

After the personal declaration, I heard many snorts and snickers around the classroom. The teacher began to glare at me. Damn, I actually thought what I said was pretty damn funny.

"Well I can see the two major problems here. You're naturally angry and you have no boundaries around your seniors and adults. Are there any other things I need to know about your negative self Mr. Macbel?"

"Not really. Well, other than the fact that your assumptions just prove how much of a bitch you are."

She sighed angrily and then avoided my eyes and assigned me my seat in the middle of the class. I have to admit, that was a B-Class move. See, when you're in the middle of the classroom you can look like you're learning without the teacher's high hopes of you doing well being shoved in your face. But being in the back would've been nice too.

"Matthew, I would like it if you could sit between Avery and Candice."

The girls raised their hands and I began to walk towards them, as quickly as I could of course. As I was getting closer towards them, I felt a hand slap my ass and then I turned around. The culprit was this weird blonde, and may I mention, slutty but normal looking girl. I had no idea why she would even do that, but I guess that just show how desperate she is since she was hitting on a emo but normal looking guy like myself. I finally sat down next to Avery and she began to laugh her ass off just after taking one glance at me and looking away.

"Oh my fucking god, that was the best thing to happen to Ms. Prakna!"

"So that's what that bitch's name is? That makes her look even stupider than she already is."

"But seriously, that was the funniest thing to hear in this class for a while now."

"Well, I'm glad that there's someone who follows my light sense of humor."

"Well, I'm glad that I finally met someone like you around here. I think you're pretty awesome already, well, aside from the fact that you look like a emo-wannabe."

"Well, that wasn't intentional, but okay?"

"Ugh, that was a joke dumbo."

"Haha, I know."

I began to analyze Avery little by little. She's around 5'2 or 5'3 and she's the first girl I could tolerate with bright blue hair dye streaming down a portion of her dark brown hair. I know I sound completely feminine by commenting on her fashion sense, but I guess we would be considered brother and sister considering that we dress the same way. Our sweatshirts and pairs of Converses are our only best friends. That was, legit, the first thing we actually agreed on.

"I gotta admit, Shelbie, the blonde bitch who slapped your flat ass a few minutes ago, is really desperate. More desperate then I am, which is a first for me."

"So would it be safe to say 'Stranger Danger' right about now?"

"Nah, you should've said it before right AFTER she slapped you."

"Oh, I guess that could've been a addition to my little comedy session."

"Yeah, that's true Bello."

"Bello?"

"Um, yeah. It's your new name Mr. Jim Carrey Wannabe."

"Well, I'll be here all week and all year!"

We laughed with each other again and then the day went flying by like that one guy I can remember who was rolled to the surgery room and almost died.

So here's what I've learned in High School so far:

I actually need to watch out for slutty blonde girls in High School for Stranger Danger reasons.

All blondes are bitches.

I'm apparently the funniest "Thing" according to Avery. (But I hope I'll be the funniest "Someone" to somebody someday.)

And finally, there are some people who care and laugh at my humor. I must actually be the funniest guy around Westrell High ever.

Damn, that's already a lot to handle.