"Loneliness can be either a comfort or a festering wound, it all depends how one chooses to look at it."
(Red's unwritten thoughts: I think it always hurts, though, after a while...being alone...)
"He asked you a question, pipsqueak."
I prepped myself mentally, taking a deep breath and turning from my locker, my books in my arms.
"Sorry, it's not easy to write in your style..." I fidgeted.
"You saying his style's bad or something, ...huh?" You know, most people would be sarcastically asking, if they said 'huh.' But no, this was Johnny. And with him, it meant that 'Plank,' his ever-present imaginary friend, was speaking to him. That piece of wooden bullshit decided to 'tell' something to Johnny, and so he added, "Plank says you're just making excuses."
Yeah, but how would you know? You're just barely passing with a D in English. I guess it's like everyone says, Plank is the fucking brains and the kid's the brain-dead muscle. I winced, realizing this could go real bad, real fast, if Johnny decided it. I turned to Jimmy; no, excuse me; Jamison, with his wild golden hair oddly serving to make him more intimidating. I cleared my throat.
"I'll have it ready later, alright?"
I saw him mouth the word 'later' doubtfully as he cocked his head once to the side, his brows furrowed, then raising. I felt trapped. Damn it, I hated being late for class. Why did I have to leave his damn paper all the way in my gym locker? Idiot!
-click- -clack-
I heard it behind me, and my eyes widened. The grin on Johnny's face grew, a malevolent smile to put the Cheshire Cat to shame. Jamison looked ahead at the approaching figure, giving nothing away with his cold demeanor. Honestly, I doubt he even wanted Johnny there, except for as a voice. He didn't talk much, and when he did, it was whispers to Johnny. I don't think he liked his voice much.
"Gentlemen?" his cool voice echoed in the hallway, emptied a bit ago as the time for the class bell crept nearer. Johnny cackled rather insanely.
"Oh, hey, Eddward! The nerd's been holding out on us, he has Jamison's paper and won't give it up."
He took a step forward, into my view, his eyes glancing my way whilst his head kept its direction, facing the two boys in front of me.
"Is this true, Kevin? We haven't the time for such dalliances."
"S-sorry, it's..."
"He'll bring it to you after lunch. We must take our leave for class. Jamison. Johnathan." Eddward nodded towards the pair, and continued to walk forward. Johnny's smile faded, and he gave me a sneering look, before walking past, eyes glued to me threateningly. Jamison 'accidentally' bumped me when he walked past, and I fumbled my books, almost losing them. My heart fluttered, all the anxiety I was pushing back coming to the front of my mind.
They hadn't done anything. How the fuck? And why did Eddward even say anything to them? Normally he'd just walk on past, or make things worse!
I decided it wasn't worth thinking about, because I needed to get to English class. Eddward was sitting there in his normal seat, speaking casually with Marie. He didn't even look my way once. And once the teacher announced what we were doing in class, I realized the only reason he must have said anything was so I'd be on time to proofread his paper this week. Fucking self-centered ass.
He walked to my desk again, but I was more prepared. I was still afraid, though. The sureness of his step, the way he held itself, it all screamed predator; I was just the means to an end. That was the only reason he bothered to 'keep me alive' today.
"Your paper, Mr. Barr." He wasn't asking, but rather, stating it. I took it from its place in my binder, handing it his way, and found myself looking down at his paper once again. The teacher had assigned us to write about our ambitions this time. Now, it was time to proofread Eddward's paper again, in all of its peculiarity. A few things stood out to me.
"I've been alone for so long, we've wed; Silence and I. I keep her company, and she keeps me her peace. A mutual relationship by all accounts."
Mutual? Who would want to be alone all the time?
"I'll become a staple feature in the homes of the wise and the recluse, my name echoing across the bookshelves, oscillations of shared loneliness, for they and I alike."
That sounds less like an ambition and more like depression talking. How could someone seriously think like this?!
"The dark will be my eternal foe, kept at bay my all manner of static and flame, lest Silence's grip become vile, stale, to which my mind has a tendency to lead her."
Alright, that sounded fucking dark. I actually feel bad for him. The fuck was this all about, anyway? I decided I'd finally ask him.
It was another few minutes before my paper found its way back to my desk, with its grader in tow. Again, blue, pristine ink covered the page in tightly-bound curls, elegant script, and undoubtly a bit of the judgement he was so fond of. But I didn't really care about that at the moment. What I cared about was this depressing essay I just read. Does he really write this stuff all the time? That first essay, was it...true? He's not just bull-shitting this all...right?
"Hey...Eddward?"
He turned his head to look down at me, his hands in the pockets of his jean jacket. Just turn his eyes copper, and I'd be staring down a wolf, I swear. The intelligence behind them...but...
"Have you comment not worthy of writing? That is the purpose of the assignment, mon cher." His words were quiet, but sharp, as his eyes continued to pierce me. I looked down at the paper, biting my lip. Maybe I could...no, no, fuck, at least with talking I can pretend I didn't say anything, if he has physical evidence then I'm fucked.
"I just...all...this...is it true?"
His eyes softened for a moment, only for his gaze to return to its normal, icy guise, "What is truth, but the absence of lies?"
I sneered a bit, looking down at my trembling hands, which were practically screaming at me to 'shut my geek mouth' before I fucked myself over. But no, no, I had to keep talking because I'm a glutton for punishment.
"It's just...it's depressing. You can't really think like that, can you?"
He looked away for a moment, to the side, his head unmoving, before his eyes quickly flitted back to mine.
"Life is depressing, Little Red. You'd best learn that quick. Now, if I may procure my paper before the end of the year, or have you managed to yet again fail at the simple process of correcting it?"
I gulped, "I...tried...to?"
A sigh. "Very well. I suppose one cannot 'expect a babe to sing' when they just began to walk. But I cannot allow this to continue. Inquire further of Marie, lest you stir my temper, Little Red. I've little of it these days."
And he was gone.
I looked over at him as he sat down, turning his head slightly to speak to Marie. She frowned, and looked my way. Then, she smiled...and waved? Good lord, what have I gotten into? Fuck this class. I'll take the F if this keeps up. I mean, it's like...I wanna know what the fuck is up with Eddward, kinda. Maybe. But is it even worth it? I mean, if he keeps me safe around the two and a half dumbasses...ugh!
Class is over. He's already gone. Whatever, I'm done for the day.
Lunchtime, time to grab the essay for the two bullies. And I guess...ugh. I should probably thank him for stopping them.
...Not today though, nope.
Tomorrow. I'll thank him tomorrow. God help me.
I'm feeling my skill at poetry and my deficiency at prose rearing its ugly head. Yuck. Oh well, sorry if this is bleh. Even coming back to it now, I don't think highly of it; apologies.