Nobody Knows (Chapter One)

Nobody knows. Nobody knows what really happned. Only I do. It's something I never mention, and is buried in the deepest, darkest corner of my mind. You need more than just a key to go ahead and open up my secret. I sit here alone in my own little world. I am outcast. That is my name. It fits me perfectly. It is what I am. I am invisible. I go into rooms, and no one notices. I do something nice, but nobody cares. When I die,I will probably become a ghost. I will watch every move the perfect people make. I will try to make their lives misrable. I will laugh when they will mess up big in their lives, when they realize they've had too much sex and drugs. Sometimes I imagine the cheerleaders living in small dumps they call houses with crazy kids running around all over the place. I know that wont happen. I wish. They will marry rich guys and have perfect lives, and soon enough they will put behind their crazy reputation. Everyone will forget. Not me. I'll still remember. Mr.Kent keeps droning on and on about how important it is to recycle, blah, blah blah. I close my eyes and I fall into a world of tranquil darkness. Someone pokes me from behind with a pencil. I ignore the warning. It stings. I feel so warm and cozy that I almost fall asleep, but I sit up and stare at the Mr.Kent. A fly buzzes in my ear, and I wave my hand a couple of times. My eyes follow the fly. The bell rings. Great. My books sit on my desk, untouched. Everyone starts talking at the same time, and people rush out of the room. Some of them wave to their friends, while others slowly pack their things. I remain seated. When everyone is gone, I gather my books and stuff them into my backpack. I make my way toward the door. The classroom is emty except for Mr.Kent, who sits and reads a book by Shakepeare, while sipping on a hot cup of coffee. He doesn’t notice that I'm still in the room. Typical. 1

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I pretend to get something to eat. The lunch lady raises and eyebrow at me. "You gonna get something or not? Move it along princess." I cringe at the sound of her voice. She sounds like a toad with a bad cold. I hate this woman's sarcasm. Quickly I get myself some goop known as mashed potatoes with chili cheese. Doesn't look like any mashed potatoes I've ever seen. I look around the caferteria. I see groups of people. The jocks, the punks, the goths, the cheerleaders, the popular people, the nerds. There are no tables for me. A girl waves to me. I dont know who she is, but I go toward her table anyway. She sits with a group of friends, and points to an empty seat. I place my lunch tray down, bite on my lip and sit. Bad idea. I didnt notice there was gum on the chair. How conceited can you get? The table had an outburst of cruel laughter. I don' feel anything but numb. I stood up with a peice of gum on my ass, threw out my trash and left. As I walk down the hall, people push me this way and that. A guy even knocked my books down on purpose. Nice. Very nice. I try to ignore all of the people glaring at me. Their icy cold stares burn through my skin. I don't even wait for the bell to ring. I run out of school like a speeding car, and I don't let red lights or STOP signs get in my way. Beads of sweat trickle down my forhead. I'm good at running. If only I could run away from the thoughts buried deep inside my skull. That would be nice.3

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