What happened to Tuesday?

3

*So cringe*
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It's lunch now. With all the weird encounters during science and social science, I'm convinced everyone's plotted something against me.

People walk right past me, with no care in the world if they bump my shoulder, or come close to tripping me. The teachers aren't any better because they just send me to the back of the room for asking to many questions.

So I send a gaunt look in the direction of a group of boys whispering with their eyes are trained on me when I go to sit by trees where I was earlier. My eyes catch each of theirs one at time, assessing them before taking a step forward.

The one on the far end doesn't break eye contact, even when I sit down in-front of them. I gulp the saliva built up in my mouth, crossing my legs and pulling my bag to my lap.

"You seem to be the only group of people who acknowledge me," I test the waters to see their reactions. They show No sign of bewilderment, almost as if prompting me to go on.

"All of a sudden my mind is remembering things that happen "yesterday", and the confusion in my brain is so thick I can't-

"No need to explain, we've seen you around. It's like your showing symptoms memory loss, or hallucinations... what ever you call it, your sure good at showing it through facial expressions." The boy who spoke is sitting in the middle of the group, clutching a dense book which label I couldn't quite catch.

"Yea, what ever is up, you should probably tell someone." The next one who spoke up, was sitting to the left of the book boy, clearly clueless of how ridiculous he sounded.

"You don't understand, they don't even acknowledge my presence If I try having a conversation," I look at them pleadingly in hopes for answers.

"You seem scared like your going to lose you reputation or something, last time I checked, your at the bottom." The cocky one spoke up again, earning a well deserved punch and four glares.

"Sorry, but that's not my top priority. In fact, it's not even on my list." My remark leaves him frowning.
"Then why do you care?"

"Because it feels like a set-up, nothing feels right." I pause before I go to far, finally taking in each boy. They all have old-looking uniforms with brown and black marks. their shoes look well-worn through, to the point where they could probably painfully feel the concrete they walk on everyday and the tiny stones loitered everywhere.

Each one of them has a different aura wafting off of them, making me wonder the similarities between them and if they actually come from the same friend group.

The one who held eye contact earlier, has a fluffed kind of fringe. His dark roots fade into soft blonde that's almost caramel, with dark ocean eyes to match. His buddy next to him has brown hair styled into a quiff that sits well on his head. The skin on his arms radiate warmth in the brown it holds, reflecting the colour of his eyes.

Book boy sported brown eyes, with what you would call a bowl-cut in an amazing shade of raven-black. The cocky one next to him, has shoulder length hair in dazzling browns with the additional streak of dark brown. The one who punched him, has curly hair sitting atop his head, cleanly cut to eventually end at faded side burns.

I kick myself for noticing the small details, and they catch on.
"Yeah, she sure is good at showing things."
"Shut up, or I'll punch you for real, Hampton."
"I want to see you try-

"None of you are any use to me, so.." I get up tugging my backpack strap up in one smooth motion.
"Wait no," The blondie speaks up, standing up as well.
"I think I understand, it looks like you've-
"Stop it kill, you don't need her to faint."
"What?" I feel my lips droop.

They all exchange glances, with the blondie speaking yet again.
"You've-
"That's enough killian." The one next to him speaks sternly.

"She deserves to know..." he trails off, looking regretfully towards the field. I wince at the thought of them knowing something to do with me. I was probably right then.

Bitting hard on my tongue, I storm towards the middle of the area where everyone can see.
"I get it," it comes out louder than my anticipated, "you can skip the theatrics now and just tell me what I did." Nothing. Not a single glance.

The boys are looking though, eyes wide in, is it shock or the humiliation I caused myself. Oh well, the can laugh all they want.

My heavy ankle-length boots stretch and give off an awful screech, differing each step I take. I sigh heavily, tempted throwing my bag through one of the classroom windows mer inches from me.

I feel eyes that aren't on me. Heads bent to look my way, but disguised by heavy conversations.

It's all sinking me further into the darkness, with sheets slowly covering my body, hiding me.

A familiar face came into view, disappearing into the throng of students just as quickly as it came. I was now going to beat myself over figuring out who that was.

I stoped as the blond boy magically appeared in front of me, staring straight into my eyes. His posture was tense, almost as if-

"Killian, we told you to leave her alone." The cocky one trailed behind the book boy as they seemed to be playing follow the leader. They came slowly, dodging the rush of kids heading to class.

"You should probably get to class." Book boy was looking behind me, trying to get the words out without being awkward.
"I think I deserve to know your names," pause
"Class doesn't matter right now, because of all this." I signify the situation by waving my hands about.

"Fine, fine, fine. Killian, Mathew with a bowl cut," the cocky one spoke up instantly, grinning when he pointed to himself  "Rocco the hotto, Dune and little Scotty that needs a pompadour."

I raised my eye brows at Rocco, skimming my gaze over each of their expressions. Bored, annoyed, anxious, mocking and empathetic. Well ain't this just jolly.

I manoeuvre around the group, wishing I'd kept my mouth shut. Maybe I'll learn.

***

Last period when I entered the class,the teacher expression said it all, but she kept that to herself. I sat at the vacant chair, sighing all my emotions into the room.

I started tapping my pen halfway through the lesson, waiting on a reaction from someone.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Someone must've really beat into their heads that I was that bad, I mean, if their not at least showing the smallest bit of annoyance. The teacher compared to the others though, never laid a single eye on me he whole time.

Even when we where packing away for home time. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Fine by me, I'll just walk home in silence with both my ear buds in, and see if everyone wants to ignore me. If I get run over, guess I'll be dead.

Music comes through my earphones, altering my walking pattern to flow with the rhythm and beat.

"What happened to Tuesday?" I whisper half to myself.
"Well, I guess tomorrow will tell."

———
I'm planning on creating a whole new series based on murders, but I don't we're to start. Oh and also maybe from another persons perspective during a case or something? Idk.

So...