School is a place of knowledge, and is a place that leaves you brain-dead. Whether good or bad, accommodating or malicious, there are always two sides to each and every story. I've never quite known what end I grabbed on to in this disregarded side of society– I've never felt the need to search for who I am. I am a learn-as-I-go kind of guy; I don't like to have my life experiences and expectations handed to me on a to-do list.
Impatient people sputter about, looking for friendship and relationships to guide them, using the rungs of a social ladder to rebuild the tracks for a train wreck. I avoid people as best I can, not wanting to be involved with the crash. At a point in my life I was like them all; using my contacts and sources to become the Popularity, or at least just a decent status that would get me somewhere. But it's a dog-eat-dog world here, people would climb me like their own ladder, their base of support, and when they felt they picked enough apples from this tree, they would take rungs from me and rebuild the ladder elsewhere. As time ticked away I became two impotent pieces of chipped and broken lumber, I wasn't the tall and sturdy ladder in the hierarchy anymore.
School is a place of knowledge.
I was built solely for literature; I am a literature based creature. My heart and mind belong to the books I read, because I can picture myself perfectly in every word. Not many people even have the right to say that about themselves. I pride myself for having something that no one else has. I convince myself that my talent and interest in life-altering words is good enough to get me far, and that me being the only one of my kind makes me unique, above all.
Therefore, I am at the bottom of the ladder.
The girl with the jade-eyes - that familiar stranger- what would she think of me, as a whole, standing here? In this busy hallway, bursting with life in every direction your eyes avert their gaze to, there seems to be no life where I am. I am not life, you cannot live with me, but you can think, and envision the future as if it were a past. I am different, I am not life.
If Buttercup dares, she will meet me. She will not live, but she will not be another brain dead creature.
During a long journey on the tracks of the thinking train, I had been derailed. Someone out there managed to push aside my inner thoughts, a delay my well-awaited ride. I considered an ill-mannered comment as the result of a newly found bad mood. It was a teacher. I held my tongue.
"Your answer, Mr. Johnstein?" He repeated to me. The whole class was watching intensely, I could feel it. I braced myself for the snickering as I admit that I wasn't paying attention. He sighs, shaking his head.
I felt disappointed.
It is a place that leaves you brain dead
Lunch came after much waiting and patience. My mind wondered through every nook and cranny of my past, weaving in and out through memories. Being so wrapped up in myself- so entangled in the web of my existence, I failed to notice the obsidian haired girl approaching. With a light tap on the shoulder I nearly flew. I heard a light chuckle as I stared at her blushed face."Didn't mean to startle you, Boomer." She managed to clarify through snorts and chortles. I felt the heat intensify in my cheeks, and I swallowed dryly. "Sorry, I was kind of wrapped up in my thoughts, I didn't notice you."
She smiled warmly, it was familiar. I gawked awkwardly at her, catching myself before she noticed. There was something about this girl. Where ever she went, she gave me a sense of familiarity, as if I were closer to home. She was like a path to my home. Worry and fear washed over me in a wave of discomfort, I strained to maintain me deceiving smile. Something about her brought memories, and I did not understand it, like many things in my short life. She stopped smiling radiantly, and suggested a seating area for the two of us.
As she progressed in front of me, I felt the growing sensation of a flashback sneaking up on me.
I sighed, letting it play like a film in my head.