Classroom
By Dark Sadistic Angel
Angst. No other warnings. Disclaimers apply.
He sat alone in the classroom. Around him, in the far corners of the room, he could hear his classmates whispering. They were whispering about him. No matter how hard he tried, he could never be normal. He could never make friends.
It wasn't his clothes. They all wore uniforms. Black tailored jackets, black trousers and black shoes, with a crisp white shirt, the collar of it circled below by a dull, brown tie. Like a hangman's noose. All of them looked like they belonged to death. It wasn't his surface appearances either. Although he knew himself to be plain, there was nothing overly ugly about his face, or anything defective about his body. He was good at sports.
The difference between him and the others was the inside. Or rather, what he lacked inside. Although the uniform make them all look dead on the outside, it belied their individual personalities. They smiled and laughed. They lived. Only one boy in the class was truly dead, and that was him.
Through some sort of instinctive sense, they shielded from him. Partially because of his coldness, and partially too, because of fear. Emptiness where a soul should be apparently frightened people. Sometimes he wondered whether he should be frightened himself, but he could not bring the fear forward. It excluded him, like warmth.
But that was fine. He suspected it was better that way. He could accept the lack. He looked up as he fell a stare linger too long on him. The boy's eyes widened and quickly darted away from him as he met them. He looked down again and continued studying his text book blankly.
Now, if only he could dull the pain.
Fin.
DSA