Chapter 3

Along the right wall were rows of backpacks bulging with school items and text books, and they were in stacks and rows and falling over each other. With all of the student's eyes of me, I slowly slinked in to the massive gym; my backpack slid off of my shoulder and up against the wall, and I quietly took my lonely place at the back corner of the mob. Rows of metal chairs lined in front of the man, and I quickly sat in the back, left corner.

"Alright," the man said, "everyone take your seats." The small crowd of students sat down, some gossiped and some were talking obnoxiously, loud. "Hello," He continued, "My name is Loki Oddison; I was named after the Norse god of Mischief. I am from Scandinavia, and I lived there for twenty-five years and then I moved to America," He made direct eye contact towards me, and our vibrant, green eyes locked on each other; I quickly looked away. "Before anybody asks, I will not say something in Scandinavian for you."

Slowly, I began to space out and drift into my own realm. This was where I could be safe from bullies, from the constant harassment, and from my hell of a life; it was an entirely golden city, and somewhere in that city my parents were waiting for me to come home—where ever that is. But, even if my parents were alive they should have come and gotten me by now; or just at least one of them.

Loki kept on talking, but I was escaping to my own world. Lying next to me on my right on a cold, old, metal chair was a hard back copy of "Fallen Angels" , and the city on fire glistened in the slightly dimmed lighting. I picked up the copy of my favorite book and opened the cover; the black ink on its pages looked brand new, not a single aspect of this book was damaged, and not even a bookmark adorned the pages.

While Loki was talking on I casually tilted my head down while I was intently reading my favorite book, it seemed like hours before the lecture was done, and I was so engrossed in the book that I barely heard the old, metal school bell ring for lunch.

As the students were standing up, I quickly put the book back down on the metal chair, and I looked like I was drowning in sea of children. The students piled out the doors, and I quickly stood up and walked behind the giant mob that was crowded against the red wall. I waited calmly for the people to move out of the way, but minutes passed and I was growing impatient.

But, somehow magically, the—red—sea of students parted down the center to where I was able to get my green and striped bag, but as I was going to get my backpack it seemed like every pair of eyes was glued onto me. The group was silent; nobody coughed, or made the most remote version of a sound. As the silence was issued it diminished, the chatter of the kids around me was loud and obnoxious; it was mostly gossip, and I had heard a few smart remarks about myself.

I snatched my backpack up and quickly scrambled away from the growing crowd, and I quickly walked to the wooden, double doors. My had reached for the golden handle, and as my hand was about to touch the ornate, golden handle the door swung open, and standing in the door way was a massive man; his hair was golden and came down to his shoulders, he a slight remnant of a bread, and he had striking blue eyes—they were almost electric. This man appeared to be angry, but his face looked so kind to others.

Without a sound he stormed in, and stormed towards Loki. He wore a tight, dark blue t-shirt and dark wash jeans, and this guy was tall and muscular; not like puny football players, but like body builder huge. His electric blue eyes darted at me, and they gave me a get away from me kid kind of look. Quickly, I scurried away from the gargantuan man and out into the quiet hall.

The hall was completely empty; perfect.

I silently walked out into the hall, it was dimly lit, and had a homey feeling; It was comforting. Quietly, I roamed the silent corridors, but suddenly as the silence was brought upon me it left. The double doors leading to the gym bust open, loud and rambunctious students piled out through the doors, the screamed and they shouted and they ran around in the halls.

Now I was a very angry Synyster, which is not a good version of me to be around.

Suddenly I was engulfed in students, people towered over me, and they ran past me, some would even hit me in the shoulder or ram me in the back; just another miserable day in the life of mine. These people around me were like skyscrapers and I was like a little, tiny, miniature shed; and I'm of average height, so I don't know what kind of miracle grow these kids are getting.

I tried to walk faster than the current of students, but I could not succeed in the process. The current was too fast for me, and soon again I was engulfed by students. So, for the first time in a long time, I just went with the flow.

I walked silently along the noisy halls; I just started at my black and white converse all down the hall.

Once we reached the cafeteria's doors the students started to pile towards the front of the mob to get through the doors, I slowed my pace so that I would be at the back of the mob; this tactic worked great in escaping giant mobs in high schools. People swarmed around me, and I hung in the back; girls gossiped around me, boys flexed for the gossiping girls, and people quietly chatted with their friends—they were lucky. I seriously didn't have a single friend at school, I only had Syd.

Sure, it makes me sad that I had no friends really, but you get used to it being the little girl who nobody wanted. Not even the people who brought me into this world wanted me, that's why I was dropped off at Ms. Annie's fourteen years ago; my parents simply didn't want me, and they didn't seem to care where I had gone to.

The halls cleared quickly, and students flooded into the cafeteria. I walked the nearly barren corridor, an occasional student would pass by me, probably because they forgot their book bag in the gym; you know, typical stuff.

I began to walk faster towards the double wooden doors; I could see through the tiny, glass window pane that this lunch period would be hectic—people were standing on tables, I could hear the noise level from out here in the hall, and people were up walking around everywhere. Fun.

As I approached the doors I had a bad feeling about entering, I had no idea why, but I just did; something didn't feel right to me.

One the mahogany door was a Sweeney Todd flyer, my and Julia Heathcot's faces were edited onto the faces of Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett: Julia was nice, she wasn't mean at all, she was always kind to me and the people around her, so that was good.

I pushed in the door and I slowly crept into the noisy cafeteria, people were shouting at the top of their lungs songs—that were being horribly sung—people roamed the area like spirits, and the noise level was like a Metallica concert. Times eight. I quickly walked by the noisy students, staring at my feet, I made my way across the castle painted cafeteria; my table—that nobody else sat at—was all the way in the very back corner, tucked away from society.

The red and gold floors zoomed under my feet, and I cautiously looked up I was standing directly in front of my table; I smiled to myself, now I would finally get some peace.

My table was round and tucked away in the very back corner of the north side of the cafeteria, and our cafeteria is freaking huge. It's like the school is trying to pack all the ass-holes into one large space and is expecting all of us to get along perfectly—that doesn't work out so well. We have food fights quite often, somebody usually is just joking around and throws a piece of food that misses and it hits somebody, and then somebody gets pissed off and they throw a piece of food back at them, thus the food fight is born.

Let me tell you, it's a very entertaining to watch idiots throw food at each other like maniacs, but in the past I have had a bowl of mash potatoes dumped on my head—which is not very entertaining to try and get it out of your hair.

I sat down in the back of the circular table with my back facing the painted wall, and I had a perfect view of everybody in the room; the jocks, the preps, the hipsters, everybody. They gossiped constantly, and every once in a while they would peer over their shoulders and snicker at me. Apparently being a "loner" isn't very cool. But, unlike everyone else, I didn't give two craps about popularity!

I waited incomplete silence for—who I called—"Kenneth" to come and dismiss me to get my food; like seriously, he looks like a Ken doll—golden blonde hair, blue eyes, tan—the whole shebang. Kenneth walked around the cafeteria (and as somebody quoted) "looking all gay and crap" a lot of the time I hated this school, but we come up with the funniest things sometimes.

While I waited, I unzipped my green and black backpack and pulled out my copy of "Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief" I had this book plenty of times, wishing the gods were real, but they could only be real in my imagination; that made me sad, it would be so cool if my parents were gods. I could shoot water from my fingertips!

"You can go," Kenneth tapped on my table and casually walked away.

I sat my book down on the grey counter of the table, and stood up. There was a long line in the rich kid food line, a moderate line for the moderately rich people, and a short line in the free or reduced line; my line was the free line. Ms. Annie's isn't the richest place on earth.

Quietly I strode to the free line, only a handful of embarrassed looking kids stood in the line; their hands were shoved in the pockets of their goodwill jeans, and they gently bounced on the ball of their heel. Some of their eyes darted at the people in the cafeteria, they sipped coffees that they had gotten from the rich kid line and stared in disapproval.

I walked into the kitchen-type area, the smell of freshly cooked meals lurked in the air; mash potatoes and gravy sat in a massive pot, turkey drenched in gravy sat in the oven just waiting to be eaten, and the horrid smell of cooked green beans lingered in the air. The green beans totally ruined the wondrous smell of a holiday dinner.

Overall it looked delicious, and I was just salivating over the smell; who knows what could happen when I ate some of the meal.

I stood calmly in the line along with the tense kids that were circled around me, my arms were folded over my chest, and my foot tapped the red, tiled floor casually; as you can see my school has a thing with the color red.

"Synyster," one of the lunch ladies called, "we have your lunch ready." One of the good things about being a free lunch kid is that you get the freshest, healthiest, most delicious food; I smiled to myself and walked around the tense kids. The older lunch lady, who seemed to be in her mid-sixties, smiled at me; her wrinkly face formed happy grin as she handed me my free lunch.

"Thank you," I said shyly, and walked away from her. I know I'm rude, but I'm terribly shy.

Quickly, I scrambled back to my comfort zone, I weaved through the tables, dodged the students as strode across the busy floor. As I was walking back to my comfort zone, I saw him again; Loki Oddinson, or the man in my dreams in real life. He sat at the opposite end of my table casually eating his gravy marinated turkey.

Oh god I thought here we go again.