Unstoppable: Revitalized

-02-

Creeping the door open, whilst trying to make as little noise as possible, I managed to sneak a quick glance out of the window of the door. Nothing too out of the ordinary, but the classroom was generating enough noise to make me realise if I carried on easing it open and slid in, I might just be able to sneak in under the radar. Doing as I followed, the door edged open, a loud and obnoxious creaking following it. I must've gotten about a quarter of the way before I gave up and just opened it as normal, noticing the sudden silence that had draped itself over the classroom. Eyes snapped towards me, then towards Mr Nusanda, hungry vultures waiting to pick away at the carrion that just presented themselves as fish food. It was as if all the kids wanted to see me suffer

Who am I trying to kid? Of course they do. Who doesn't like to see anyone else suffer? Just like outside. Just like the past few days. Just like what's coming to me now. Every person here thrives off of the suffering of others. I'm no exception, I love it just as much as them, just when it's not happening to me.

I knew I wasn't liked anyway: I was considered weird. I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't mess around with anyone, nor do anything really crazy. I don't have anything against it. Hell, I'd love to drown my sorrows, or puff my lungs away until they shrivel up and kill me off, but every time I go towards it, I'm stopped. Images of that night flash in my mind, and I'm reminded: I lived, and I lived for a reason.

It helps me sleep at night, and it's what I'm sticking with. Mother didn't raise a quitter, unfortunately.

Honestly, I'm more robotic than human: I come here, go back home, eat, revise, sleep, and repeat. Sure, I don't particularly like it, but what can I do? Im comfortable with being a robot, and a robot I'll damn stay. It might be mind-numbing, and soulless, but it kept me alive. I won't argue that.

I'd realised, as I found my seat at the back of the class, that it was an English class, evidenced by a quote from 'Dr Jekyll And Mr Hyde' being broken down at the front, various jagged lines picking it apart piece by piece, Hyenas circling their pray, with the student's input simply turning into a tired gaze and disheartened response from the man upfront. Placing my worn notebook and pen quietly upon the desk, I finally looked up to see the same hundred eyes glued to me, a hardened gaze focused pulling my attention and capturing it fully.

"Adam..." The teacher sighed, leaning back on his desk. He seemed to be defeated by my mere presence, much less my words as I leaned forward in response.

"Yes sir?" I answered as flatly as possible.

"This is the third time." He looked through me at this point, trying to dig through me, sending alarm bells ringing in my brain. "If you don't remember-"

"No. No, I clearly chose to be late, sir." My mouth moved before my brain could process, leading to a few hushed laughs and whispers to emerge from the class. Our teacher took this all in, not a single sign of struggle or wavering on him before hushing the class with a raised finger.

"See me after class. We need to speak about your punctuality, clearly." He resumed his teaching as the class continued to communicate in hushed whispers, rushed notes written under the table, and hand signals. Moresby high had always been a strict public school, and the way most kids had gotten around it was inventing a new way of speaking. Sign language, rushed movements and even eyebrow raises had a hidden layer to them here, except myself. Shaking my head and looking back up towards the board, I couldn't quite see the words, but I could see Nusanda's fixation on me was nowhere near ending, as his eyes followed my every movement, a hawk following it's newest catch.

Great. Just what I wanted...

Trying to push my thoughts to the side, I tried to become engrossed in my work, but, as hard as I tried to, it seemed impossible. Every eye felt on me. Every word spelled my name. Every glance was a small joke towards me. The minutes ticked on and on like this. Notes from the board, a slight chuckle. A new annotation accompanied by a sly remark. A few hands clasping together, making shapes and symbols, making another student stifle a laugh. Someone reading aloud, and another using that to mask a conversation about me. Minutes felt like hours, hours felt like days, until, finally, the bell rang, it's aged and rusting metal clanging against itself as students packed up and disappeared for the next class, already putting the last hour of their lives behind them. Honestly? I made a slight attempt to leave, to try and swerve my way out of this, but as soon as everyone started to move his eyes locked upon me like a predator locking onto it's prey, so I stayed sat for my own protection.