Connecticut weather for the rest of the summer: Oppressively hot! With severe storms every night with lots of lightning, gusty winds and heavy downpours. Expect Severe Weather bulletins across the television screen of your local stations!
Enough of my rant. I don't own anything. This story has been swirling in my head for a while. I hope you like it. Read and Review. Thank you! Enjoy
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Doing a webcast, my original idea is cut off by the noises down the hall. I move the webcam to the open doorway of my room. The doorway is empty, but the sounds carry through.
"As you can see," I laminate dully, "they are fighting again. Your guess is as good as mine on what started it." I roll my eyes.
I let my followers listen to the arguing over money, working hours, each other, and then they come upon me. Insults and put downs, they don't realize that I am still in the house. For crying out loud, I was at the dinner table. At least dinner was uncomfortably quiet. It was better than it is now.
My dad starts yelling at her again. Something gets slammed, my mom starts crying. I quickly cut the camera. I slip on flip flops, pull a hoody over my head and am out the door.
I don't want to deal with this! I am tired of dealing with this! If they're not happy, then they should get a divorce. They should just get out of each other's faces. I'm tired of being in the middle of this. I'm tired of feeling like a failure every time they get into fights and bring me up! Why does my name have to come up! They don't care about me. I'm invisible to them, so why can't I just stay invisible.
The night is chilly. Because its Autumn its already dark. A chilly wind blows. I should've grabbed boots. Or socks.
I stuff my hands into the pocket, and to my surprise I find five bucks. I walk down the street to the small store across the street from the park. This isn't the best area, but I need something eat, and something to do until I know the coast is clear. Hopefully, one of them will have left, or both will be asleep in separate places.
Maybe I won't go home tonight. Maybe I'll just sleep in the park. They won't care! They probably don't even know that I left. They probably don't even care that I heard every word; the whole world heard every word!
I walk into the store with two guys staring at me. One whistles at me. Gross. I ignore them, go to the chip aisle and buy a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips. I buy a bottle of soda and pay with the five dollars. The cashier gives me the change, but his greasy palm on mine lingers too long for my liking. I want to boil my palm.
I have nowhere to go at this point so I walk to the school. The door isn't locked, so I waltz right in. It's quiet. The halls are dark. No one is around. I walk the hall in complete peace. Maybe a monster will jump out and eat me.
I'd enjoy that a lot. I bet I taste like chicken.
I find myself in the black box. I switch on enough lights to see my way and sit in the sixth row, third seat in. I open the soda and chips and sit back. Nothing goes on in front of me. The quiet though is disturbed. Someone else in the room. Somewhere. My eyes scan what I can see, but I see no one. I listen some more over the crunch of the next chip in my mouth.
My feet are cold. The room is cold. The weather should be warmer than it is right now. Maybe rain is coming. I can feel a small ache in my right knee from a child hood accident. I fell out of a tree once when I was six. I was trying to see into a nest.
I pull the pant leg down past my toes, and find some relief. Pajama pants. At least they are cute: bunnies with daggers and grins.
I hear the noise again, but this time I see someone. Someone I know; someone familiar.
My favorite teacher.
The world's favorite teacher: Sikowitz.
He spots me, and comes over. He sits behind me, but one seat over.
"Always figured you lived here part time," I say dully. I drink some soda. I hold the bottle out, and back to him. He denies any, but he does take the chips.
"I do not live in the school. You've been to my home. But, as places come, living in the school would probably be a great, spacious playground."
I roll my eyes, but he's behind me so he cannot see it. I look back at him when he hands me back the bag. He does something on his phone before putting it on the chair next to him.
"So why are you here?" I question. I drink some more soda and feel a burp bubbling up. I burp into my fist.
"I could ask you the same question," he says. I hear movement behind me. I know he crosses his legs. I know his feet are bare. I know he has hairy toes. It's something I see every class.
"I'm watching this amazing play!" I say sarcastically. I even give a hand flourish.
"Why are you sitting here? Your usual seat is one in the back."
"It's just a seat!" I bite back. "I'll sit here if I want to."
"You don't sit here. This seat, on opening night is always empty…so is the one next to it. For once you thought you'd fill it," he says, not sarcastically like me, but in an unfortunate way, as if he's the only one who could say them. It's like the words are already in the air and he's just giving them sound.
"So what! If you think it bothers me, well, you're wrong! I don't care. Someone else can have them. They mean nothing to me."
"I think they do, but what matters to you is the only thing that matters," he says calmly.
I cross my arms. A long stretch of silence fills the air.
"Even if it bothers me, so what!" I cut in as if the conversation wasn't cut by silence, "I don't want them in the same room anyways."
"I saw your Webcast," he says, "I don't think it's right for you to have to be near, and hear a situation like that."
"Why would you watch something so trivial?" I question. I want to change the subject, but keep it at the same time. It's strange, weird, and for some reason, with no one around, I feel no one can judge me.
As if their opinions matter to me. Ha!
"When my students are famous and successful, I want to be the first one to say I always knew they would succeed. I want to be a little help along the way."
"What you saw tonight, does not show success. It shows a downfall."
"What was on the screen does not even begin to show you, or the support system you have in place. You may not have them, but you have something else."
"Oh yeah?" What's that?"
"Friends."
As if that is a cue Beck, Andre, Cat, Robbie and Tori walk in, and he walks out. So that's who he texted on his phone. He said he wanted to be a little help, but the truth is, he's a big help. No wonder he is the best teacher in this school.
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Thanks for reading.