No justice for butterflies

{Chapter I} Nox

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Little drops are dripping from the water tap, which I just turned on to splash the cold water on my face. It is 3:27 a.m. I haven't slept a minute, not that this is anything new for me. Sometimes I sleep, sometimes I don't. And sometimes I don't even know.

The floorboards crack under my weight as I silently walk back into my room, lying down on the bed. I start counting from 1 to 100, then from 100 to 1, desperately hoping sleep would soon claim me. I must've fallen asleep at some point because soon enough, I was woken by the rough sound of my alarm. The time passes unnaturally fast as I follow my mundane routine and then head outside the door, riding my bike to school.

I take in the cold, sharp morning air while cycling past the crowd of teenagers chatting and laughing with each other. It almost feels like they let it be just for a fragment of a second, stop what they are doing to stare at me. Might as well be my imagination. The schoolyard is especially crowded today so it takes me some time to find an empty spot to lock my bike before taking a deep breath and heading through the school gates.

My apologies, I haven't even introduced myself. My name is Nox, Nox Reed. I am 16 years old. I live with my parents in a one-family home in the suburbs of New Jersey. I am so ordinary, it almost makes me extraordinary again. Funny, isn't it? I have a ginger tabby cat named Freddie Mercury. The only friend I have is faker than the happy white families in those television commercials.

But I don't mind, we are living in a symbiosis together I guess. She can make herself feel like a heroine for hanging out with the strange, lonely boy, while I don't need to feel like an unsociable burden to society and can satisfy my parents. Even tho I'm unsure if I care about stuff like that.

I guess describing my appearance should be mentioned to my introduction. My hair is a dark brown, just like my eyes behind thick glasses. Like I mentioned, everything about me is ordinary, except for my name at least. The only thing I am passionate about is mint chocolate chip ice cream and my collection of snow globes. This is everything I can think of to say about me, someone who might as well be invisibility.

The school day goes by like tacky bubblegum.

At lunch I push myself past the queue of groups, trying not to trip and spill all my food over the floor. I felt like a fearless warrior who just overpowered a horrendous dragon after finally managing to find an empty sport with enough distance from any other human beings.

„Hey there, Nox. You look a bit tired today.You should get one of those peanut butter cookies. They are amazing." Well, I guess I did not quite fight the dragon yet. Avoiding another one of those mindless conversation, I respond with a „The cat kept me up all night. I told you I'm allergic to peanuts, Lilly." Apparently, Lilly did not expect such a rough response, judging from the twitch of her eyebrows and the way she suddenly remembered someone else was waiting for her.

Having honey smeared around your mouth can truly be pleasant. Just be prepared for the bees that might come one day.

After finishing my cafeteria lunch, or whatever nuclear waste they call a chicken sandwich, I drag myself toward my next lesson. On of the perks of being somewhat invisible is escaping being called on my teachers; an undenable help while trying to survive the school day with astonishing two hours of sleep.

Finally; not like I could've stand it for another minute; the school bell rings and I cycle home, inhaling the now heavy, hot summer air. Next to me the immaculate, white houses with their perfectly green lawn turn into a blur.

"The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes."

- Arthur Conan Doyle