Invisible

3. People Change

As I traverse the mostly empty halls of the school, I find solace in reciting random facts about the stars, moon, and cosmic happenings. The familiar information serves as a mental shield, warding off the encroaching thoughts that threaten to overwhelm me. The emptiness around me feels eerie, and my mind, left to its own devices, starts to wander down paths I'd rather avoid.

Before I know it, the bell rings, signaling the influx of students into the previously quiet corridors. The once-desolate hallways now buzz with activity, and I feel a sense of relief wash over me. The steady flow of people becomes a comforting distraction, allowing my thoughts to shift and flow, like a river finding its course.

I navigate through the bustling crowd, the collective hum of conversations acting as a counterbalance to the quiet turmoil within. Amidst the sea of faces and the rhythmic cadence of footsteps, I find a peculiar sense of comfort, a reminder that even in the vast expanse of my thoughts, the external world provides a grounding force.

The school day unfolds, and as classes progress, the ebb and flow of student movement become a backdrop to my mental reflections. The structured routine of the day helps to anchor my thoughts, and I begin to feel a semblance of order returning to the once-turbulent landscape of my mind.

On the eighth day, I find myself observing the world's constant whirl without fully participating. Life, along with the lessons from tarot cards, has taught me the art of taking it day by day, and when that's too much, embracing the minute-by-minute approach. As I walk through the halls, a routine etched into my daily existence, familiar faces pass by, a dance of recognition that plays out day after day.

A few accidental bumps occur, a consequence of my towering height combined with a forgetful nature. Yet, I've also learned that some collisions are intentional. It's easier for people to kick those who've already fallen, a reality I don't hold against them, understanding that anger often propels such actions.

"Hi," Yeonjun nods, breaking the stream of thoughts. I respond with a small bow as he passes, acknowledging the familiar nodding acquaintances that punctuate my journey to class. There are just six hours separating me from the time when I can immerse myself in the moon's comforting glow. The countdown begins, each passing hour marked with an anticipation that shifts my focus towards the celestial sanctuary I yearn for.

The lunch bell rings, signaling a temporary escape from the classroom confines. Eager to seize a moment of respite, I sling my flat backpack over my shoulder and navigate the corridors. However, the tranquility is shattered by a sharp and familiar voice that pierces through the air.

"Hey, star boy," the taunt echoes, but I keep walking, unwilling to engage in the brewing storm behind me. The voice persists, growing nearer, more insistent. "Hey, I'm talking to you," it demands, a pointed firmness indicating the presence of Jake. Abruptly, I'm spun around, confronted with the unwelcome sight of his smirking face.

"Did you get my messages?" he inquires, his tone carrying a mocking edge. I blink, momentarily caught off guard. "You mean the spitballs you threw at my head?" I respond, the truth punctuating the air. A smug satisfaction creeps onto Jake's face. "Did you?" he presses, his satisfaction bordering on menace.

To an outsider, it might seem like a casual exchange between two boys, but I know better. "Yes, you don't like me," I state, my reluctance to delve into his attempts at communication apparent. His tone takes a darker turn. "Oh, so you don't read them, huh? And I thought you were a nerd," he jeers. I stare back, a mixture of defiance and caution etched on my face.

"That's too bad," he declares with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "We have to do this the hard way." Before I can react, I find myself forcefully pushed against the cold wall of the now empty corridor, a sinking feeling settling in as I realize I'm cornered in a situation that promises to escalate into something far more distressing.