Shape of a Miracle EP 2 - FreezeFrame

Screw them!

Chapter two: FreezeFrame

Look at them.

Just look at them. Frantically stocking up the closet, sweeping the floors, cleaning the desks. Acting like they're all SO busy. Like they actually give a single living crap about cleaning their classroom. Like they won't bolt outta the place the second it's all done. God, they could make you sick.

"Ishida..."

And over there, at the back of the classroom, those guys aren't even doing crud! Sure, They've got some mops and whatever but that's just for show; they're just blubbering and gawking like idiots. Bet those butt-ugly bastards are talking about stupid stuff like their trash taste in music, or the brainless shows they watch, or -UGH- dating.

"Ishida?"

Oh, and of course they fain complete innocence now that the class rep has turned her fake ass smile their way. Damn idiots. Bet they think they're SO freakin' smart! Bet their heads are so up their own butt they're blind to the turdstorm that is their own face. Screw them. Screw them. Screw them. Screw them. Screw them.

"ISHIDA!"

The boy jumps out of his desk and out of his own head. At the front of the classroom, his teacher stands, sporting a very pissed look in his direction. A standard site to see in his class.

"You are going to help the rest of your friends, right?"

The boy glances at the rest of the class, who've all stopped doing their chores. Every single one of them is staring at him.

He snaps back to his desk. But it's no use. He can just feel the grins growing on their faces, ready to burst out a piercing laughter. While he stands there, motionless, except for his thumbs, which furiously fumble with the pen in his hands. God, no wonder they're staring, he looks like a dolt.

" Ishida . "

Ishida looks back up at his teacher, who is still staring daggers in his direction.

"S-" He gasps, bowing his head "Sorry..." he mumbles.

The teacher grimaces.

"I can't HEAR you!"

"SOR-"

He slaps his palms over his mouth. A few sniggers finally break out of some students. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. They're never going to let him live that down; His voice cracked. Oh God. Fourteen and his voice is still warbling all over the place. He is a complete embarrassment.

His teacher meanwhile, rolls his eyes and sighs. "We need everyone's participation, Ishida..." his teacher says, walking out the room "...Even yours."

Ishida doesn't look up. He keeps his eyes on his desk. It's white. Completely white. But a sickly looking face pierces through it. A face with greasy unkempt black hair, bags under eyes and zits all over the place. What a pathetic excuse for a reflection. Even when he tries to escape into a white empty void, he can't escape from himself.

"You would really do better to listen to the teacher, Ishida."

A shiver goes down his spine. He knows that voice.

"After all..." Shimada continues, standing behind him "cleaning might be one of the only things you're good at."

And suddenly. Just like that. No one pays Ishida any mind. He might as well be invisible. Or maybe he just lost his will to care anymore. All their faces seem to melt away.

He leaves his desk.