I'm sat in the school library, with my best friend. Usually I'm sat in the school library with my two friends but one of them is sick, so I'm sat with one friend. It pisses me off when my friends are sick, because that means I'm alone. Yes, I'm an introvert, but there's something so humiliating about being alone at school. Whenever I'm alone, it feels as if everyone's in a group. And you're alienated.
To say that my friends not coming to school pisses me off, is ridiculously hypocritical. I leave school far too often, just because I'm uncomfortable. Or I've experienced a slight inconvenience. Or it's too noisy or the lights are too strong or there's someone annoying near me and I'm feeling debilitating second hand embarrassment. All perfectly good reasons to leave, but I'm often the only one feeling them. And I suppose that's another reason to feel alienated at school. You're the only one who feels your emotions.
But that's also ridiculously hypocritical to say because I'm horrible at understanding people who aren't me. Not on a normal level of disconnected, but worse. My emotional literacy is in the floor. Actually no, it's six feet under. Why should I complain about being misunderstood if I can't understand other people?
So, in conclusion, I'm a hypocrite.
But, I'm still angry at my friend for being sick.
But I do love my best friend, Lucy Castine, for being at school. She's eating coleslaw right now, to the absolute disgust of the library staff who put their heart and soul into keeping the library clean. I would feel some sympathy towards the library staff if they didn't piss me off. Lucy's coleslaw looks absolutely horrible, it's really moist and the dressing's been dyed by the cabbage. And it smells too creamy. The pure sight of the coleslaw makes me want to throw up and then go home, but I stay because I like Lucy. I often stay because I like Lucy. Sure, I dislike her gross old containers, her constant need to spray deodorant, her really bad shoe odor. But the way I like her stupid humour, her amazing advice, and her big ponytail with her bouncy ringlet curls sort of evens it out.
A loud gasp comes from one of the library staff, Ms Carlyle. I think Ms Carlyle has some issues. Her skin is all wrinkled and kind of yellow, she's rather unsteady when walking, and she just kind of looks dishevelled.
Alcoholic. That's sad.
Not only is she an alcoholic, she also just went through a divorce. She doesn't have kids, so she's feeling rather lonely. She used to have pictures of her husband at her desk, but their gone. She used to wear a ring, gone. Maybe she's an alcoholic because of the divorce. That's even sadder.
One of the other, younger staff, walks over to Ms Carlyle as she gasps. Me and Lucy watch from our desk.
"Another one." Ms Carlyle says, pity in her voice.
"Oh god." The younger staff says. I can't tell in her voice if she really cares or not.
"A twenty year old girl in a car park. God, so young." Ms Carlyle reads.
I know what they're talking about. The Hunter. I swear every conversation ever has been about the hunter. To summarise, throughout the past months there's been a series of unsolved murders, believed to be done by one person who the media has nicknamed 'the hunter'. It's a whole sad serial killer thing, probably will have a Netflix documentary in a couple of years. Obviously this is a big news event, therefore people are going slightly hysterical. It's like Jack The Ripper all over again.
Lucy makes eye contact with me, eyes slightly more open than usual and brows raised. The type of eye contact that says 'goddamn'.
I raise my eyebrows, but keep my face straight in a way that reply's 'yah.'
