The Musician

The High-Quality Daydreamer

YN - 2 = 1. I find it humorous as to how much algebra relates to my life- well, this equation, at the very least. I used to live a jolly ole' life. I had a small, moderate group of friends. We were close and we seemed almost inseparable. There was me, my friend Natalie and my other friend Hannah; three of us. Let us say that YN in the expression YN - 2 = 1, is equal to three. Well, it is three if you solve it, but whatever, there was three. Then one day, something happened that made two out of the initially three friends, leave the group, leaving but only one remaining.

I'm making this more confusing, aren't I? Let me simplify things for whoever may be reading my story. Central Creek, the 76-year-old school downtown, closed due to being unsafe. So the students that once attended Central Creek, were dispersed throughout the other schools in my town. A bunch of new kids were sent to my school. My friends Natalie and Hannah became obsessed with these flirty guys that were in their English class, and it was almost as if they were in a trans. Soon enough they, they being my ex-friends, were dating these jerks, just 2 weeks after they met. I warned the both of them about these kinds of guys. You know, the ones who flirt with pretty girls just in hope of getting in their pants. Those were my friend's boyfriends.

Natalie and Hannah ended up getting defensive with me, claiming that these boys were not what they appeared to be on the outside. I stayed stubborn and told them that they needed to ditch their boyfriends before they got hurt, which then resulted in the end of our so-called everlasting friendship. I presume that having them ditch me was for the best. After all, I don't know where I'd be now if they hadn't left me. I'm living a better life without them than I was with them. But this wasn't initially the case. I was quite lonely, over the summer. I had nothing to do but wait for the next school year to start. I dreaded the first day of school, in fact, I dreaded school in general. I would have rather died than be seen at school without my friends. But as the new year rolled around, I came to accept being lonely.

I ended up having my 11th grade English class with Natalie and Hannah. Lucky me. They sat a few rows down from me and would look back every so often and scold at me. Although this did bother me, I had decided that it would be best to refrain from retaliating, and just let them be immature. After all, in the end, I'd be coming out as the adult who left the past in the past. But anyways, I'll stop rambling on about my pathetic past and get to the real story. It started that year in 11th grade, when I was leaving my 5th period English class, to go home.

I left through the left wing's back entrance, the only entrance that I thought nobody but myself used. I swiftly made my way through the doors, pondering on the fact that it was a Friday. I couldn't wait to get home and watch TV. Luckily but unluckily for me, I had stumbled upon a fight. I noticed a group of seniors huddling in a circle. They had seemed to had found yet another younger, smaller student to pick on. I proceeded to walk by, but something caught my eye. Well, it wasn't something, it was someone. I froze in place and observed the fiasco. "Get up, faggot", one of the tall boys yelled. The person below the towering seniors quivered in fear.

One of the boys, one I recognized, grabbed the person by their shirt and pulled them up. I was finally able to get a good look at who they were picking on. It was someone I had not seen before. Somehow, this someone had seemed to capture my attention long enough for me to fully stop what I was doing and observe the chain of events that were occurring. I don't know why I was so mesmerised by this lost soul, but I just was. But anyways, I once I finally caught a glimpse at who was being pummelled by the 12th graders, I began to feel personally offended.

The seniors were beating up a blond boy whom I had yet to meet. He wore his blond bob back in a ponytail, had light blue eyes, porcelain, china-white skin, and was about my height. I don't know why I took so much offence from him getting picked on, but I sprung into action. I knew that I had to do something, so I did. I approached the cussing group of boys and tapped one on the shoulder. A tall, familiar brunette boy turned around and towered over me. "Can I help you?" he sneered. I straightened myself and looked at him straight in his brown, beady eyes. "Yeah, you can", I growled. The rest of his friends stopped what they were doing, to join our conversation. "What do you want?" A boy named Jason asked, in a robotic tone.