"To fear is innate, but what we fear is often based on personal experiences." You'd do well to note that this is 'also,' for I'm certain not every fool would embrace falling despite their lack of experience in the subject.

"You should talk to him."

Oh, if it were only that easy, Marie.

Our English teacher, Mrs. Rhodes, had left the room temporarily for the sake of relieving herself. I suppose teachers are humans too. Marie was sitting atop her desk, legs crossed and dangling, my mind calculating the possibilities that the plastic would give way and fall. She was rather light, but...

"Marie, you know better than to sit there, you could easily fall and injure yourself."

A huff blew a strand of blue hair from her face, as she slid back down into her seat in one fluid motion, pushed herself to sit up straight...then slouched, elbows on the table of the desk with her fists upon her cheeks.

"Aww, little blackie afraid for poor wittle me?" I could see the playfulness in her eyes, hear the mirth of her tone, and my eyes flicked slightly to observe the classroom. Only one boy; a certain redhead, to be specific; was looking our way. I let my fingers dance against one another, my mind processing her earlier question.

"And what, exactly, would you desire me say to the boy, Maria?" She rolled her eyes at that, and I allowed myself the smallest hint of satisfaction.

"I don't know, something about how you're intrigued by his inner thought process and would love to delve deeper," I made a disgusted face, and she put her hands up in defense, "Hey, it sounds like you, don't blame the messenger!"

"And what would be my motivation for this, hmmm?" I watched her eyes dart up, lips pursing in thought, before she held her index finger up to signify an 'idea.'

"How about, you do it for me, because I'm worried about you."

Ah...of course she'd pull this one on me.

As much as I adored my friend, she grated on me with this little habit. Ever since the first time her hands slid one of my wristbands off, she became 'worried.' And worry meant a desire to inform someone as to my doings, and my home life. Now, one might think it would be such a pleasant endeavor, escaping the tragedies of home to a new world. That would be ignorant. No, I would need to uproot myself as a flower choked within weeds, tearing my roots asunder, only to be thrust back within the dirt, choked by dust and debris.

I'd not have that. And thus, she found after some time that her mention of the 'subject' would impose upon me her will. I loathed it.

But...her intentions were mostly well-meant, and so, I tolerated it. Just.

The corner of my eye observed little Red's fidgets. Why he was so interested in me now, I could easily guess, but I would have preferred he continue to treat me with the same, resigned disdain as his fellow classmates. The teacher would arrive back soon. I turned my head towards the front of the classroom. The doorknob turned, and silence fell upon the class.

Today, we wrote our essays once more, correcting our mistakes, able to inquire of the teacher as to things we were uncertain about. I took the time to write something less academic, for I'd already finished said assignment the night prior. Kevin did not once approach the teacher. In fact, he seemed entranced by his page. Or, perhaps, the words upon it. My own.

Again, the teacher departed. Unprofessional, if you would ask me, though I imagine the students enjoyed their reprieve from their assignment. The few of any value exuded their frustration with sighs, and one even stood waiting at the teacher's desk for her return. Kevin's eyes turned my way again. I decided, this time, I would meet them. And so I did.

Akin to a deer in the headlights, that one. Most would have pretended to have only looked my way by accident. I suppose, though it could merely be an assumption, that he was too distracted by the thoughts I'd placed upon his paper, swirling in his head, to think to look away. Still, his eyes did not turn, and I found myself standing up. I could practically see Marie cheering for her little fantasy of my befriending of others. I had no intentions to; I simply had something to clear up.

His nervous habits appeared to kick in again at my approach, and I allowed my heels click against the floor. When one's presence in unwelcome, even dreaded, all aspects of one's arrival become key to thickening the mood. I had no desire to let the little boy gain the upper ground in a conversation, no matter how unlikely it may be. I stood in front of his desk, eyes upon his paper. His only paper. His essay.

"Slacking off, are we, Mr. Barr?"

He looked up at me in a stunned silence, as though he'd expected me to go away if he'd ignored me long enough. I met his gaze with a glare of my own. He gulped.

"I...uhh, I just have a lot to think about with mine. M-my essay, that is! Your observations in it were quite...astute! Yeah, it made me think a lot. Umm, I just need time. Your advice was good, I-"

"I noticed a distinct lack of any commentary on my own paper. You could have at least tried."

He was withering beneath my glare, fumbling with his pencil.

"It was, it j-just, there was nowhere to improve. It was deep, and eloquent, a-and..."

"And no one is perfect, Mr. Barr. If you're ever required to assist with a paper of mine again, you'll need to hone yourself properly. I don't take kindly to disappointment, and schoolwork is very important to me."

He seemed as though he was struggling with a reply.

"Speak up."

He took a deep breath, "I just...your essay made me think, and..."

"And?"

I imagine the tone of my voice, falling upon his delicate ears, burned as acid. His body shrunk.

"I wanted t'knowmor'boutchu..."

I narrowed my eyes, my expression unchanging.

"Well, here is your chance, Little Red. Marie has refused to assist me any longer in this class by way of peer reviews," a frustrating truth from the former evening, which resulted in a volley of sharp words, and a win by way of a newly-lit, stale cigarette, "and thus, I am in need of another willing applicant."

I watched as he bit his lower lip, cowering within his shoulders. I supposed I should pity him for being so pathetic. Instead, I was simply frustrated, as I did not wish to draw this conversation out any longer. I was doing this for Marie. For the stability of my life, with all of its negatives and its rare points of light. Red was merely a means to an end.

"Your answer? I've little time left, and you've wasted much already by not improving upon your shoddy work."

I almost saw a hint of anger there, but he hid it well. I was tempted to provoke it, but I needed him to be agreeable, if only for this class. If only for Marie's sake.

"...Alright."

His voice was deeper than I expected, and almost sounded...determined? I suppose I could call it that, but I'd be more like to imagine it 'bravery,' due to his obvious fear of my presence.

I gave a curt nod, still conveying no emotion, "Then I shall come to you next we write. And remember," I leaned down, letting my palm and nails rest on his desk, my fingers curled in a claw as the nails slid over the desktop, "whatever you have of me, I shall always have more, little sheep."

And so I turned, likely leaving him to stew in his worries, whilst Marie tilted her head my way, a lop-sided grin on her face. I rolled my eyes condescendingly.

Upon reaching her, she spoke, "Wasn't that hard, now was it?"

I let out a hushed sigh, one only Marie could register, "With the correct motivation, no task is insurmountable."

She giggled playfully, hopping off her desk and settling a hand on my shoulder.

"Come on, sourpuss, teacher's due back, we should probably pretend to work, like, now."

And like clockwork, Mrs. Rhodes returned. All the students so well-behaved, no speaking, essays being rewritten dutifully and questions asked once more. All, but for a single red-headed teen. If I hadn't forgotten how to ages ago, I could have laughed at the irony.

Little sheep, you'd do best to follow the herd, lest you be trampled and left to the wolves.