9:37 a.m. - Shermer High School - Library

I've just finished writing down what had happened in my dream, and what would happen if it were ever to become a reality. I've also wrote down a couple of words on why I think it should be realized. How many is that? Almost six-hundred words, I would assume. I don't know anymore. I lost count when I fell asleep.

Bender, in front of me, looked around and turned back to me. "Look at yourself," he said, "You're the only one jottin' words down on that pathetic essay he wants us to do…"

The nerd perked up towards Bender, "Um, I'm also doing it too - just, uh… not as quick as Tim is doing it." he said. Bender glared at the nerd, then turned back to me.

I look up from my essay. "Cause I'm doing the right thing, ya know?" I responded, "If Vernon expects us all to make an essay, then we should do what he wants us to, right?"

Andrew and the cherryhead turn back to see me. "Well you're not wrong," said Andrew, "But when you look at the rest of us, we're either on a slow start or we haven't started at all."

"Yeah, what are you trying to be, a schmoozer?" Bender asked me, causing me to glare, "Cause there are a lot of these guys here who schmooze to Vernon."

"Well I ain't trying to suck up to his ass." I said, rolling my eyes, "All I'm doing is making sure I'm not in his headlights for the future, by proving to him I'm not that much of a target." The nerd nodded his head in approval, but Bender ignored him.

"If you say that you're trying to stay out of his headlights… then there's no doubt that you might be a schmoozer…" he said, smugly.

"He's ran you over a bunch of times, I could tell you that." I retorted.

As Bender glared at me when I said that, Andrew and the cherryhead giggle to themselves. This, of course, did not go unheard by Bender, as he turned around. "Well aren't we jiggling your ta-tas…" he said out loud.

Both of them looked back at him, their giggling has stopped. "Your point?" asked the cherryhead.

"I'm just saying that… you think it's hilarious that I've screwed myself to here a bunch of times, but when you get screwed by the bull, you have this cloud of shame hanging over you." Bender responded.

"That's because unlike you, who always gets in trouble with Vernon a lot, we actually care about what we do right versus what we do wrong." retorted Andrew.

Bender grinned, chuckling at Andrew, "Me hearing this from a dude wearing tights for a match…"

The nerd laughed when Bender said that to Andrew. I could tell that Andrew's face turned red as Bender mocked him. Trying to find something to retaliate against him, he threw his pencil towards the back, but the pencil flew over Bender and my head, landing a couple feet from where I sat at.

"Missed me…" reminded Bender.

Andrew said nothing else. He turned his back away from him, still angry with him, with the cherryhead putting her hand on his right arm, reassuring him not to lose his cool.

I, on the other hand, saw Andrew's pencil. Wanting to be helpful and give it back to him in case he needs it for his essay, I stood up and bent over to grab the pencil.

"You know you have a nice ass…" I heard Bender.

I looked in back of me to see Bender watching me. I also saw the cherryhead and Andrew glare at him. "You wanna say to her again, asshole?" Andrew threatened Bender.

"Were you talking about me?" I asked Bender.

Bender laughed. I also heard the nerd chuckle a bit too. "Your ass… it's thick. Thick enough for someone to squeeze it hard…" he said, "I could assume someone would find it… self-indulging, right?"

I wasn't having it though. I stood up, pissed with the dude. "You're being totally disgusting, y'know that?"

"Would you stop, please?" the cherryhead desperately asked Bender to quit bothering me, or anyone at all, "Nobody's interested in you playing predator."

Bender smirked at the cherryhead. "How 'bout your ass, Cherry?" he asked her, "I bet… your cheeks are just as thick as Tim's!" He points to me, as I cover up my own ass. "I bet… I bet that if I look underneath that skirt of yours," A rosy-cheeked cherryhead covered her long skirt. "They might be even thicker…" He points to her chair.

Andrew, having enough of Bender, stood up to confront him. What I noticed was that Andrew was at least a couple of inches shorter than Bender. A wrestler versus a delinquent… I'd like to see who would survive this one…

Andrew advanced towards Bender, slapped his chest. "You know something man?" he asked, "If we weren't in school right now, I'd waste you!"

Bender looked back at Andrew, defiantly. "Can you hear this?" he asked the letterman, pointing his middle finger to the floor. "You want me to turn it up?" He flipped his hand over, showing Andrew the bird.

As I saw them argue, I noticed the mess, who had apparently hopped two seats right from her old seat, gazing at my rear. I remembered that she was giving me uncomfortable flirting gestures towards me earlier, as I stepped back and turned my ass away from her, turning my head away from her. But I did notice that she was glaring at me when I turned my ass away from her.

"Those tights of yours getting tangled?" Bender asked Andrew.

"I'll kick your ass if you mention tights again!" Andrew threatened Bender yet again.

The nerd stood up. I could see the nervous look he had on his face, as he saw the confrontation escalating. "Guys, maybe we should, uh… not make things get too complicated?" he suggested. No one paid attention to him. "Don't you have an ass to talk about?" he asked Bender.

This got everyone, including me, to turn towards him. The nerd giggled at himself when all the attention was brought to him. The tension did die down between Bender and Andrew, but when he did ask Bender to talk about my ass again, that set me off.

"Shove it, man!" I fired at him, embarrassed, still covering my butt.

Andrew looked at the doors, anxiously, hoping that the fight wouldn't alert Vernon to come in and punish us. He turned around, holding his hands as if he were to set everyone straight. "Alright, I've had enough of this shit." he said. "You," he points to Bender, "Shut your mouth up and sit your ass down!" He points to the nerd, "You, quit thinking about Tim's ass!"

"Sorry…" the nerd said, putting his right hand on his left arm, guiltily.

"And you," Andrew pointed to me, "Let's watch the attitude, huh?"

I give a nonchalant sigh, "Fine..."

"Sorry I said that, Tim." said the nerd.

I looked at the nerd, who had a genuinely guilty look on his face. I gave a sigh, thinking to myself that I was feeling too harsh on the nerd. "It's fine." I told him.

I looked at everyone else. When Andrew and the nerd said my name, it got me a gut feeling inside my chest: Who is everyone's names? I mean if I introduced myself to them, why everyone else introduce themselves to me?

"What are your names?" I asked everyone.

Everyone turned around. Bender, in particular, smirked at me. "Now you're becoming a joiner…"

I rolled my eyes. Up ahead, I saw Andrew wave towards me. When I turned my head to him, he said, "Well, I'm sure you know what my name is, 'cause Vernon said it a couple hours ago."

"Yeah, Andrew. Right?" I asked him. He nodded back. I stand up and walk towards Bender. I say to him, "And you," Bender looked at me, "You're Bender, right?"

"Yeah." he said, "Well, Bender's my last name. People call me that because they want to assert authority on to me. My first name is John."

I nodded my head. "John." John nodded his head. "Good to know."

The nerd raised his hand, which gained my attention. "My name is Brian." I nodded to the nerd, now knowing his name is Brian.

"I'm Claire." I heard the cherryhead say to me.

I nodded to the cherryhead, now knowing her name is Claire. Bender turned to her, "Ka-Laire…" he pronounced in a menacing tone.

"Yes, Claire." she responded, "It's a family name."

Bender shook his head. "Noooo… it's a fat girl's name." he mocked.

"Why thank you." Claire said, sarcastically.

"You're welcome."

"I'm not fat!"

"Well, not at present," said Bender, "But I could see you really pushing maximum density." I saw Claire glaring at Bender as he kept on rambling, as Bender walked in front of where she sat. "You see, I'm not sure if you know this… but there are two kinds of fat people. There are fat people who are born to be fat, and then there's fat people who were once thin, but they became fat." Bender stopped in front of her. "So when you look at em, you can sorta see that thin person inside." Claire looked to her side, doubting Bender's speech about what she might 'become'. "You see, you're gonna get married whenever you feel like it, and then you're gonna squeeze out a couple puppies, and then… uh…" Bender starts to make strange noises, "Oommmmff… oommmmmff… PFFT!" When Bender saw the glare on Claire's face again, he continued, "It wouldn't be a surprise when soon, your tum-tum is as juicy as Tim's ass."

I gave Bender the death glare, before walking back to my table.

I could hear Brian talk to Andrew, "He's right you know."

"What?" Andrew responded quietly, annoyed, "That Claire's gonna be F-A-T someday?"

"No," said Brian, "That Tim's butt is… uh, nice."

I stop at the side of my table, and give a stressful sigh. I am here, with the most irritating group of idiots on this planet! I thought to myself, ready to throw whatever I could on my table (my pencil and my essay paper) towards them. I know I'm trying to get to know them, but between the four talking about being fat and my ass being a gaze to stare at, and the mess, who kept staring at me, being… a mess, I was stuck in hell. If only I'd have the power to be invisible, that way I could disappear from these idiots (unless Vernon bursts in to check on us) and never have to be involved with whatever comes out of their mouths. I mean, sure, I want to make friends, but having to listen or be apart of these irritating conversations is making me want to steer clear from them. How much longer do I have until I'm outta here?

I looked at the clock right at the top of the library, and I could see that it was just after 9:40. Ughhh… Just kill me now, Vernon. I thought to myself.

Then I look at the mess, who was gazing at my ass. When she looked at me, I raise an eyebrow. Really? I thought to myself. But the mess stared at me, like I was planning to bomb the school. I could also see that she had her paper in front of her, turned upside down.

"What's your name?" I asked her. She didn't respond. For ten seconds, I let her have the opportunity to say what her name is, but she didn't say anything at all. "Forget it." I told her, "It ain't important." I headed back to my seat, refocusing my attention on my essay.

Bender walked towards the back tables. I could tell he was thinking of something to say to her. He plopped a seat next to the mess, staring at her, as she turned her head away from him.

"So…" Bender said, "Whatchya doin' here today?" The mess remained quiet. "Did you… break a limb? ...Or… piss in the halls? ...What about… smoking joint?" The mess did not say anything. "You must be mute…"

The rest of us looked at Bender and his (failing) attempts to make a conversation with the mess.

"Doesn't look like she wants to talk." said Claire, "Either that, or she might've been born mute."

"Well I beg to differ." remarked Bender, turning to the mess again, "D'you like heavy metal?" She still did not respond. Bender leaned in to her. "I think your just the guinea pig who would love Slayer."

I glanced over to see her lower her eyebrows, through her hair, her eyes turning to Bender.

"You heard of them?" She still did not respond, but I could see her shaking. "You don't look too good…" Bender kept on egging him, "Want me to turn the heat up for you, toots?"

Still, the mess did not speak. Bender looked over to her sheet of paper which was flipped over. He reached over to grab it, but suddenly, his hand was slapped away by the mess.

The mess then jerked her head towards Bender and angrily hissed at him. The rest of us jerked to see such fury coming out of her. Bender, though, did not seem fazed by this. Instead, he just had that deadpan look as if nothing happened to him.

"You might've gotten a little too frisky with her, man." I told him.

Bender jerked his head back to me. "If you think so, why don't you talk to her?" he spat at me.

I rolled my eyes, "I already did."

But Bender jumped out of the chair that sat next to the mess' chair, grabbed my arm, dragged me across to the table on the other side, and threw me into that chair. As we exchanged glares at him, he beckoned his head towards her, and walked back to his table. Andrew glared at Bender while Brian and Claire stared at me in shock.

I did not know what to do with the mess, as all I could do next was turn to see the mess stare at me dead in the eyes. She had that creepy stoic look on her face as if she was ready to murder me in a brutal fashion and set all my torn-apart limbs on fire.

"So…" I tried to say, "What's your hobby?"

The mess stared at me for a couple of seconds, before grabbing her paper that was supposed to be used for her essay she's supposed to write, somehow not turning away from me, flipped it over, and moved it in front of me.

I looked at the paper, and instead of words and writings, there were drawings. There were six people in her drawing: a vampire, a prisoner, a viking, an astronaut, a bride, and a punk.

I turned my head to her. "So… art's your hobby." I asked. As a matter of fact, I knew that art was her hobby, regarding her amazing picture that she made before we went to the bathroom. I just pretended like I didn't know.

She pointed to me the figures. I looked at them again, and the more I looked at them, the more I could distinguish their faces and appearances more clearly. I could see an angry mess as the vampire roaring 'at the viewer', with pointy teeth as fangs. Then I could see Bender as the prisoner, with a death glare and showing the horns sign.

"Huh…" I said to her, "You must have a big imagination."

I looked back at the picture, and I saw Andrew as the viking, who had a mighty grin on his face, wielding an axe. He was not even wearing a shirt. I saw Brian as the astronaut, who had a normal smile on his face. Then I saw Claire as the bride, who was holding a bouquet of flowers with her left hand and her right hand on her head, as if she was about to faint. Then I saw the punk, who had his arms folded, having a deadpan look on his face. I couldn't really distinguish who it was.

"Who is that?" I asked the mess. As the mess kept on staring at me, I looked back at the picture, confused, trying to distinguish who the punk was supposed to be based on. After studying the image, I glare up into the ceiling.

I turned back to the mess. I knew that she drew them based on her studying our personalities, including her own. "The punk's me, right?" I asked her.

The mess did not say anything. All she did was stare at me dead in the eyes. Everyone else stared at us.

Brian leaned over to view the picture himself, only for the mess to snatch her picture away from him and hide it. "You don't like to show off your work, do you?" he asked her, innocently.

I sighed to myself. I knew she was one of those students who doesn't like anyone to look at her masterpieces. "Y'know, I'm kinda like that too." I told her.

The mess stared at me again, saying nothing to me. In back of me, I hear Bender walk towards my table. I turn back to see him grab my essay. He skimmed at my essay as I stood up to confront him. But when I went up to him, he placed his left hand on my forehead. I couldn't even get out of his grip.

"Let him be, hoser!" Andrew threatened Bender again, "Or I'll beat the shit outta you with my chair!"

Bender ignored him. Fifteen seconds later, he placed the essay down on my table. He turned to me and said, "That dream will never happen, buddy."

Not wanting to hear anything else from his mouth, I snatched away my essay paper and walked back to the table the mess sat at.

I hear Bender walk back to his table. "New kid's like MLK Jr. over here!" he told everyone.

"Shut up…" I heard Andrew tell him.

"He wants to be some kind of revolutionizer of poetry!" argued Bender, "I don't think it'll happen!"

"I like poetry." said Brian.

"Let him be, John." said Claire, "If he wants to be a poet, let him be a poet!"

"And I wonder what dreams will not be coming to you, Claire…" Bender told her, "As far as I'm concerned, you might think of yourself thirty years from now as president!"

"I'm not into politics." she responded.

Bender smirked at her. "Good to know…" he said back.

Meanwhile, the mess pushed a VHS tape to me. I examined it to see a sticky note with a writing that says, 'Upstairs. Back of the library. TV next to bookshelf'. The mess and I stare at each other for a long ten seconds. I look back down at the tape, stood up, and walked to the back of the library.

Walking up the side stairs, to the back, I noticed more that the library was aging. Its graying paint was starting to get chipped, and the blue lights were dimming. This school is so old, it really needs to be demolished and started over. I thought, Sad-looking exteriors, blackouts in the halls, constant littering, yellowjackets in clothing, chipping paint… There's no way in hell that this school is going to survive to hold future students.

Eventually, I saw a small TV on top of a VHS player, next to a bookshelf that had the genre, 'Historical Fiction'. Glancing at the VHS tape I held in my hand, I saw to the side of it in white marker saying, 'LSON'. I should keep that in mind, I thought.

I took off the sticky note that instructed me where to go, and put the VHS in the player.

I turned the TV on, which took twenty seconds or so to finally turn on. Though the image in the picture box had static, and it was hard for me to listen clearly because the TV's volume was really quiet.

But I saw the moving images. I read the subtitles that said, 'March 14, 1972 - Shelby's Play'. I saw on the TV that it was a school play, as it took place in an auditorium, full house of audience members present, and there were two figures on the stage. One of them was a tall, slim girl with long black hair. I could barely make out her face, except I could see that her eyebrows are highly arched. Shocking, no? The other figure was a boy of African descent with a crew cut. Both of them wore outfits that were from the 20's. The setting was two cardboard walls colored to make backgrounds of an old cottage from the 20's overlooking a farmland, and it took place in what looked like the dining room of the cottage, with a table and five chairs, two on one side, two on the other, one at the head.

The students in that play were acting. "Magnolia, my fairest, sweetest, most compassionate lass… My eyes never failed me. You are… the most beautiful sweetheart I've ever laid my eyes upon!" said the boy.

I rolled my eyes, aware that this 'Shelby' girl has written a little repetition in her play.

"My sweetest, Billy…" said the girl, "I knew you would say that to me… You've shot an arrow to my heart ever since I saw you first…"

Blehh… love… I thought, disgusted. It's not the problem with love stories I hear, it's just how people like this 'Shelby' girl portrays them - constant complimenting, schmoozing, zero conflict.

As I kept on watching the play, the girl puts her right hand on the head chair. Just as she was about to speak, she could not even move her hand. Her hand was stuck. "Wha?" she said, shocked, "My hand, it's stuck!" When she saw that the boy was staring at her, she yelled, "Don't just stand there, n-" That word she uttered out, everyone gasped and some audience members (I could tell some of them were from African descent) stood up and boo'd the girl.

I was taken aback when the girl called the boy the n-word, myself. Back in the city, I've heard of it a bunch of times, where people bicker and fight on the streets. But my parents have told me not to say it to anyone, not that I would say it to anyone.

The girl continued yelling at the boy, "Get your ass over here and HELP ME!" The boy, naturally taken back after hearing her say that rude insult, begrudgingly, went over to assist the girl. The girl kept on flailing her other arm, until it landed on the chair.

I laughed to myself. Now she's never gonna get her hand out! I thought, smirking at the girl's misfortune and karma.

More and more students, cast dressed up in 20's clothing, and crew, dressed up in black shirts and black pants, went over to assist the girl. But what caught my eye was a student dressed in black and white, wearing a paper bag on their head. Is that the mess? I thought to myself.

The students in the video kept on trying, and failing, to get the girl unstuck from the chair. Eventually, they all tried pulling the chair off her hands. After eight seconds of pulling, they finally got it off, only to hit the cardboard backgrounds, knocking them over, and causing the students to fall down with it. None of the students could get up, as they were all stuck as well. At that point, the audience either laughed, boo'd, or panicked.

The student with the bag on their head stood in front of the destruction of the stage. But the girl marched over to them, furiously. "You did this!" she roared, "You're gonna pay for this! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" The girl ripped the bag off the students head to reveal a familiar face.

It IS the mess! I thought to myself, shocked that she would do this to her fellow cast and crew members.

The girl grabbed the mess by her shoulders, opened her mouth, and her teeth hit the back of her neck. I could hear the mess scream out, loud and shrill. Damn… I thought, She must've bit her hard…

The other cast and crew members who weren't stuck to the walls, along with a couple of staff members, including Vernon himself, ran over to the girl and restrained her from committing cannibalism. I saw the mess fall to the ground, where I could see blood fall from the back of her neck.

Having enough, I turned the TV off and unloaded the VHS tape from the player. I looked at the marker writing on the side of the tape, 'LSON'. I thought to myself for a moment to puzzle if it had to do with the mess' name.

I turn around to see the mess stare at me, startling me and almost causing me to fall back.

As we exchanged stares at each other, I pointed to the writing on the tape. "LSON…" I said to her, "Is your name…" I started to realize something about a name that came up to my mind, "Allison?"

The mess nodded her head, which was the first time I've seen her at least acknowledge any of us talking to her.

"That girl…" I said to her, "Why did you do that to her?" She didn't respond to me. A couple seconds, I asked, "Did it hurt?", thinking about the girl biting the back of her neck.

Allison didn't say anything, but she did uncover her jacket, and revealed underneath her black shirt a scar of the bite. I shivered, realizing how painful it might've felt if someone did that to me.

"Sorry that happened to you…" I told her.

But Allison didn't say anything to me. She got up and walked away from me.

Is that why she doesn't talk? I thought to myself, Because she's afraid someone's gonna take a bite off of her?

Eventually, I got up and headed back downstairs, where I was met with everyone gazing at me, concerned about how I'm feeling now.

"What happened?" asked Brian, "What did she show you on that tape?"

But I didn't respond to him. I just simply headed back to my own table and refocused my attention back to my essay, where I have less than halfway to go before I'm done with it entirely.