Ideas and Oneshots

idea 21 Project

I walked down the halls of Care High, new to the building but old to the area.

My mom recently moved jobs and luckily for her, it's better paying. And luckily for me, I got to go back to our old city. With its beautiful lakes and greenery

I looked around the huge new school they built on top of the old Lsd Elementary School.

Luis South Drive- not the drug.
It was built in the middle of four large county's that intercrossed to make a Four large building kindergarten-12th School.

The halls are crowded as I make my way to my locker. The halls are loud with chatter, but nothing obnoxious.

So many familiar faces flood past me. But, I've changed a lot since I was last here. My skinny toothpick 8-year-old body has to turn into a Plump, Curvy 17-year-old body.

My once blond hair, darken and muddied over time.

A hopeless smile grows on my face as I find my locker. A few things in it before closing it. Trying to memorize my new pin.

I check makeup and softly droop my eyes to my feet.

I missed life. Back in California, everything felt like a waste, moving felt like pulling a ton of bricks on my back, and I struggled to even meet anyone at my high school. I was known as the outcast, I wore stained shirts and leggings and my hair was unbrushed and down, it was clean. But that's about it.

I'm glad my back, I know nothing will change in a snap. But im trying.

The warning bell wakes me from my lost thoughts. Somehow, the crowd seems thicker now as I walk against it this time. Like waking in a tornado wearing an open parachute.

I open the door to my new homeroom class, gazing apon the
people.

Nobody looks up when the door slams, nobody cares that im here.

But I care, and that's good enough.

I pull out my iPod and put on a horror podcast, drifting into a rhythmic glide of my Gell pen makes on the paper.

I doodle what my idea of the main character looks like in the story.

His face contorting with a scream of terror on his face for shits and giggles... And practice.

I look around the room to find a pair of eyes meet mine. I smile at him and wave my hand in an awkward hello, as my eyes drift back to my notebook that I should be using for notes for my next class.

I crinkle The character's nose, exaggerating the wrinkles in my style.

The next thing I know is that an est bud is pulled from my ear, I frown and look to the suspect.

There he is again, the boy from across the room. His soft green eyes on my forehead, following down my face.

He rests his head next to my drawing, not paying it any mind as he stares at my face, with a single earned in his ear listing carefully to my messed up story.

I decide to not ignore him, but not pay him any mind.

He sets his head beside my sketchbook and closes his eyes.

I start sketching on the opposite page so I don't bother him with pencil dust, eraser fragments, or anything in between as I start drawing a detailed flower.

Almost out of instinct my hand lifts so his face softly petting his stubble, his eyes snap open and he looks at me in almost fear, before instinctually covering it up.

What happened to this poor boy? I frown a bit and move my hand away from him, putting my focus back on my sketch.

He soon falls asleep next to me. With his head down and his arms covering his face.

I start packing my things before the bell rings and once it does, I wait for the flood of people before making my way to my history class.

-

"Look to the person at your left." Mr. Kelly directs to the large class. "now tell me what they were wearing yesterday, two days ago maybe?"

Everyone stayed silent.