Rocking Chairs

Prologue

No one thinks that people notice the simple things, like the 15... i mean 16 flurries of snow that had began to fall and on their way down stick against the window, or the 29 markers cascaded around the room, lonely, because no one would bother with taking them up and back into the proper bins. Maybe they don't notice that an obnoxious guy across the room had scratched his chair against the floor while scooting in and out, one to many times, or maybe the teacher who is screaming at me, and has been for the past few minutes, sometimes waiting for my response but never getting one because I've been zoned out and haven't heard anything she said from the beginning of her conversation. The only part i understood of her lecture was when I watched her mouth move into the shape of, "Do you understand," which is what seems to be at the end of all our conversations.

    Thankfully, the bell, before I could respond to the teacher, answered my prayers. That eerie noise, which always seems to end whatever had been accomplished in the past time block, had finally come to end my misery, well, kind of. Without many friends, I kind of don't really have anything to do during the weekends, or at least after school.

On my way to my locker, i'm punted in the arm. My stuff crashes to the floor and the mob of people leave me to clean up this mess that wasn't even my fault. I hear the jitters of obnoxious jocks leave the hallway. Every time that my books crash to the floor, the barrage of people seem to disappear in front of my eyes. Now that its the weekend, the silence feels even more devastating. My face stayed plain, exept for the blush that seems to follow every time my books fall to the floor. Slowly, I began to caress my books in my hands and slowly move to my locker where no one would wait for me.