Still: Prologue

Part One: eight

 

We didn’t talk much at all. There was never anything in particular to talk about, other than exchanging a few words during meals or who was in the bathroom and such. Truth be told, Zimmer seemed to already know how to deal with me, and it was simple- leaving me to my own thoughts. Maybe I did feel lonely and sad at times, but even if I felt that way, I wouldn’t have been able to have described it or even confessed it to Zimmer for any matter.

Zimmer was a good man. He, (I later realized) worked at my school as counselor in the office. I barely saw him, and even if we did pass each other by, he’d give me a small nod, acknowledging the fact that I did exist in the little insignificant place called school.

 Zimmer’s apartment was small, but made fit for two people. I liked the room he had me bunk in, for it was a small storage room, but it was all I needed to be satisfied. Zimmer himself was quite a messy person though, his things were all over the place, and he told me he had given up cleaning ever since he had shown the social workers that the space was livable for me.

I didn’t mind at all. I never thanked him though, although I should have.

Zimmer was almost exactly like Gramps. I was a spoiled child, no doubt. But I knew how to take care of myself. I spent nights out, smoking and traveling to my fill. I visited clubs, but never really mingled with anyone.

I went to clubs to listen to real music. I traveled, because I had nothing else to do. Wanted to see the world before my life ended and this is what it’s pretty much come down to.

I felt unneeded in this world, but promised to fulfill my grandmother’s last wish: To finish high school.

I spent time idly at school, not caring for my classmates, much less my teachers. I took the window seat, as always, and stared out the window for hours, my mind wandering like the sea. Whenever the teacher asked me a question however, I always answered promptly and returned to staring out the window. This learning attitude always irritated my teachers and fellow students. For once I had been sleeping (I had stayed out too late that day) and woke up just in time for the teacher to call on me to finish a geometry proof that she had already half-finished.

Yawning, I had slowly gotten up, getting a ‘walk faster’ comment from the back of the room. I heard several snickers from my row- they had known that I had been sleeping most of the time.

I took the pen from the teacher and erased all she had on the board. A glance showed that the teacher’s mouth was wide open.

I remember that smug thought: Yes kid, I just erased all the work you had just attempted to teach.

But she had the proof wrong. So I wrote down on the board the exact, correct way to the proof and resumed my small nap afterwards.

But now my teachers barely even call on me. They let me diddle around as they teach their classrooms, being the ruler of his or her classroom. I was the only exception. People found me to be very awkward anyways. Sometimes they would throw gum into my hair, or even pull the chair out as I sat down, humiliating me.

They still do that.

But it’s died down, for I never had a satisfying reaction to give them. Unlike other girls that would burst up and yell or call the teacher, I just gave my nonchalant look.

To me, these people didn’t exist.

But this week, they did. Someone had plotted a plan to ruin my whole week this time. People were on their phones, laughing at something I was foreign to. I tried to see what was so funny, but they would always cover them up, hiding the evidence.