Everything's An Illusion

I wrote this for an English assessment. 

Why would he do that? What did I ever do to him? I thought he was my friend. I guess I was wrong. 

Monday, always the worst day of the week. Depressingly, I rose from my hard, but warm bed. Only to be greeted by the biting frost of the mid-winter air. Grabbing my horrid, putrid green uniform I yanked it on, “Hurry up, you useless b***h!” My oh-so loving father shouted at me, my usual wake up call. Yanking my sleeves down, I grabbed my bag and hurried out of the house.

Dad’s been like that ever since mom died 6 years ago, he’s always blamed me. I guess I did too, I was only the innocent age of ten then. The images of her mangled body burned into my brain, constantly reminding me of my heavy guilt. Pulling out my iPod I set it to shuffle, putting it on high volume, drowning out the world I continued my trek to school.

 Gazing at the birds flying through the sky. Envious of their freedom, their flight. They danced, diving between each other, without a care in the world. Flying around the sky, beautifully, gracefully, joyously. Then they were gone. Flying off to spread their happiness elsewhere. My graze drooping to the ground I observed how beautiful the frost looked, surrounding the grass in an icy hug. Suffocating it in the most stunning way, destroying its life. As I swiveled my head to the side I saw a huge spider, grey/black body with a few intricate designs on its bottom, spinning a web, dew glistening off the silk, dancing in the wind. It’s truly amazing how it does that.

My feet came to an abrupt halt when I reached the hell hole, also referred to as school. My school, the average secondary school, had horribly intimidating towers reaching high into the sky, ivy wrapping itself all the way to the top; adding color to the dismal, grey stone bricks. Yanking my headphones out of my ears, I took a deep breath a dragged my feet onwards into the dull building. I stumbled through the clusters of teenagers, whispers flying everywhere.

“She’s such a freak”

“Apparently she hates everyone”

“Such a loner”

“Who would want to be friends with an emo freak?”

That’s me. India, the emo freak of southern high. I ignored their vicious words, keeping my head held high. Not letting them have the satisfaction of knowing how many their words hurt me. They’ve all been say these things for six years now. Ever since mom died, I started separated myself from everyone, I’ve never quite been the same. I used to be so different, bubbly, popular, and happy. I always used to be wanted and popular, with long black hair and vibrant green eyes that girls wanted and guys wanted to be with me. But that changed. My once happy self, now devoured by self-hate, mistrust and pain. 

The bell brought me out of my thoughts and I headed off to my first period, double chemistry. Fun. I was placed in high sets, when you have no friends, there’s not much to do but study. I strolled over to the science block, walking in the door and sitting in my usual seat at the back, in the corner. The teacher’s monotonous voice was so dull. Going back to my thought, I blocked him out. Thoughts were running through my head the whole lesson and soon it was over, getting rid of the few notes that had been lobbed at me, all mean, horrible things, I went to the canteen. 

I got my usual lunch of a tall coffee and set off to my usual, isolated spot, in the farthest corner of the field. Pulling out my iPod and sketch pad, I started doodling this beautiful, royal blue flower that was directly in front of me. Shading with my lead pencil, bring it to life, it was a pretty good drawing. “Hi, I saw you over here and wondered if you wanted some company,” an unfamiliar, masculine American voice said to me, jolting me out of my thoughts. “No.” My horse voice replied, not looking up at him. “That’s a real good drawing you’ve done there.” He said cheerfully, not getting the gist that I didn’t want to talk. I looked up at him through my hair. He was pretty good looking; I’d never seen him before. His black hair was disheveled and he deep blue eyes were lined with thick, dark eyelashes. His frame was tall and quite broad, but not in an intimidating way, a friendly way. I knew I shouldn't talk to him, it would ruin any chance he had of a social status in this school. I don’t want to drag anyone down with me. Without asking he dropped himself next to me, “Hey, I’m new, I’m Kez” He said, sticking out a hand for me to take. “India” I simply said, ignoring Kez’s out stretched hand. “Nice to meet you India, is it okay if I call you Indi? I like shortening names” He said with a huge grin plastered onto his face, “I don’t really care” I sniped back, “Can you go now?” I wasn’t in the mood for talking.