Chapter 2

People always say that your high school years hold some of the best memories of your life. I know, for a fact, that's a complete and total farce. Honestly, the years held nothing of value for me. It consisted of variations of colorful blurs that passed me by daily. Well, not daily because sometimes I just didn't bother with the nonsense anyway. I had bills to pay, money to come in and keep me warm, so working was essential while school was just...not.

I know I'm being presumptuous with this saying, of course, because I'm still in high school. A senior just waiting to graduate and move, though where to? As with most of life's questions, I had one reply to that baby: good question. There wasn't exactly an answer to this as I didn't know the answer. My guidance counselor obviously wanted me to go away but I wasn't sure if it was because she wanted the school's ratings to go up as more students went to college, or because she really cared about my future.

Roj thought it would do me some good to go to college. He said leaving this God forsaken city with memories that were more negative than positive, would allow me to move on and become something of import in the future. He'd often say while we talked, or ate together during lunch, that I was different from most people.

Roj and I soon made it to school. Since the city I lived in was relatively small to most, my high school was considered a community zone area. It stored up about one thousand students, all from within the grades of nine to twelve. The stone matted building was three stories high, with a two room tower where Principal Matthouse had his office. Roj thought the guy had it so high up because it made him feel superior to his students. I just thought that he was compensating for his height. Reaching only five feet four inches, our principal wasn't as intimidating a figure as he should have been. Still he seemed a respectable enough guy. He was the one, after all, who took it upon himself to drive me to the hospital where my mother's body was being housed for the funeral home later on.

But I digress.

We made it to school and already the place was littered with young minds, most of them not eager to spend long, interminable hours within the confines of this prison-like place they called Martin Luther High. I tightened my hold against my black jansport book-bag which held the essay I knew would boost up my grade, and other trivialities.

Roj motioned his head to the left as he walked beside me to a group of kids circling each other. I made a guess that a fight was soon to break out and it was proved true when I heard the group crying out oh's and, "Hit harder!"

I shook my head. Roj laughed.

"Wonder what started it," he said with a small smile.

"Don't care," I muttered. "Let's just get to class."

Roj nodded and continued forward. He understood me a little. Sure, I wasn't the type to say much, but I liked to think that he knew me well enough to know that I was uncomfortable with fights. In fact, I was uncomfortable with any situation that could cause pain to another person. I'm not saying that I was a weakling that feinted at the sight of blood. I've had my share of fights in the past, and blood and bruises had been present, for my antagonist mostly. I just didn't like it when people were hurt. Call it a soft spot within the coat of Mr. Freeze, a nickname Roj would often tease me with whenever I acted "cold" or "insensitive." Whatever the case, the sight of a fight made my stomach feel tight.

Bars, son.

I made my way up the old cobblestoned steps and entered the front hall. The green paint plastered across the walls reminded me of vomit and often left me with a queasy feeling in my gut. The stench of pubescent teenagers permeated the air; deodorant, cheap perfume and sweat filled the place.

A soft sigh escaped my lips as I hefted my bag into a more comfortable position. I was going to be here for three more months. We were a month into the second semester and I wasn't doing so good. I'd unwisely missed more than ten days for work and was behind in most of my classes. The essay would do me some good in English. As for Physics and Economics, I liked to move past those subjects and focus on other things because God knew how bad I was doing there.

Unfortunately, I could only not think about something for so long without inevitably thinking about it again, so I turned to Roj after we meandered our way into homeroom, and said, "I'm going to pass on lunch today."

Roj dropped his bag upon our table making a loud banging sound. He didn't seem to notice, as he said, "Why?"

"I'm thinking of studying some stuff for Physics."

He made a face of sympathy and squeezed my shoulder. "Yeah, well, good luck with that."

"Perimeter," I muttered.

Roj glared at me and dropped his hand.

I shrugged. He knew the deal. I took off my coat, and laid it on my seat. I scrunched up my nose. "Don't need the negativity."

He arched both brows high. "Seriously? You want to pull that card on me?"

"Just because I'm negative doesn't mean you have to be. Try to be the sunshine of my life," I told him while resting my head on my hands and fluttering my eye lashes.

He slowly backed away from me and moved his chair as if to gain distance, which he obviously did.

"What the hell?" he muttered, turning his gaze from me to the front of the class.

I chuckled softly. "Joking, dude. Just joking."

Suddenly the bell rang for class to begin. Our homeroom teacher walked in. He was a pale, heavy set man, with a glare that could antagonize anyone. His black orbs focused on the attendance sheet as he monotonously called out each name from the class. I turned my attention to the small windows facing the back of the school. The morning sun's rays blanketed the classroom with a healthy luminescent glow. Some of the light reflected upon the key chains that hung loosely from the book bag's of my classmates. I chose to keep my gaze away from that light, and focused on what was outside.

The cool wind blew against the small cluster of trees that kept the school from being too hot in the summer. But in the winter it sent a chill down the spines of many whenever the windows were open.

I watched as some branches swayed to nature's breath, and caught sight of some debris flying across the field. I stretched my arms high above my head, then leaned back against my chair and rested my back on it.

I loved to look outside. Often when life tried to intimidate me with all it had to offer, I'd walk around, wherever I could, and just watch as the sun shined, the leaves fell, the clouds greyed, or the rain poured. Because it was all so simple. These little things that happened daily were the simplest things in life and I loved that.

I heard my name being called and mumbled a quick, "Here." The teacher noted my presence and continued. I felt my phone vibrate again, but I ignored it. I knew who would be checking up on me and I didn't want to think about money. In fact, I didn't want to think at all. I had a huge problem with doing that so much. Sleepless nights plagued me because those dark hours were spent ruminating about everything, including the fact that sleep evaded me time and time again. I didn't want to think anymore. Especially about money. Money was needed. Money was scarce. Money friggin depressed me.

I wanted that to change. Everything I'd just mentioned, honestly. I wanted to have a good job. I wanted to have money. I wanted to be secure. I wanted to be stable. But, damn, I was only eighteen years old, and what eighteen year old had everything set for him in life other than one who was rich and spoiled?

I'd never been spoiled. And I had no help. No adults to call out to. No parents to give me counsel and spoil me. No-

No. I would not think about this. Any of this.

I shook my head as if to chase away the thoughts that had now just consumed me. I stared outside, narrowed my eyes. Tried to focus on something, anything that would divert my attention and keep me from depressing myself further.

I caught sight of something odd. It sat before a tree. I couldn't make out what it was, but it had a color. Red. The thing was red. Was it a bag? Why would there be a bag outside? I tried to focus my vision and settled on what was there. That was when I saw a leg.

My eyes widened. Questions swamped me. Holy crap, was that a body? Was there someone out there? Alive? Dead? It was cold outside; the kind of cold that made you think needles were pricking your skin. Whoever was out there must've been freezing.

Suddenly, sitting on that chair felt unbearably wrong. I had to get up. I had to stand, maybe run out and find out who this person was. See if they lived. I don't know why these feelings came upon me, but something was stirred and I had to take action.

Just when I was about to get up and surely make a fool of myself in front of everyone in class, I saw the body move. The leg which had been stretched out met up with the other. The body, who's gender I could not ascertain, went on its knees. The person grabbed the red bag, and jumped up. I saw waves of brown silk fall down the person- no, girl's back. She wore a black coat, and it tightened around her body as she quickly hefted her satchel bag around her shoulder. And before I could catch a glimpse of her face, her head perked up and she ran.

First period bell had rung.