Misplaced (Completed)

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

I was listening to my music, having all the tracks on shuffle and leaving it to fate and randomness to decide which one would entertain me. My head was bobbing up and down as I clicked my fingers in time to the beat of the song that was blasting through the head phones. I began to lip sync to the lyrics, closing my eyes as I did so, envisioning myself singing at Wembley.

I heard the door swing violently open and looked up to see the same random dude who had visited me yesterday. He had the same scowl set onto his face, and I wondered if it was a permanent fixture there. He stomped over to the same chair he took last time, the one to my left. Taking off his grey beanie hat, he ran a hand through his hair before shoving it back on and turning to look at me.

“Hello again!” I chirped.

He just stared blankly at me. I counted the seconds in my head, getting to a full minute before realising that he wasn’t going to be replying. Did he have manners? Scratch that question, I was sure I already knew the answer to that. No.

Feeling that if he was going to be rude - which by the looks of it, he was - then it was quite alright for me to be just as rude too. I continued to listen to my music, bobbing my head again as I quickly became engrossed with the beat. From the corner of my eye, I saw him sigh and bend forwards to rest his hands on his legs, leaning his head on top of them. He looked like he was getting comfy, like he was planning to stay for a while. I didn’t really mind the company though.

After a while, even the music seemed to bore me. Everything seemed to bore me. I was thinking about just going to sleep, I seemed to be doing a lot of that these past few days, but that would have been too rude. I did turn off my music and lay down though. Lying on my side, I angled my head to look at the boy sitting beside me.

“So, you okay?”

He looked me in the eye with his face blank like a mask. “Me? Fantastic!” he spat bitterly. I didn’t really shock me though; he’s putting across the impression that he’s always sullen.

“Oh,” was all I said. I felt like I had to say something but I didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah, oh,” he said back to me. Silence engulfed the room leaving me feeling restless and uncomfortable. I closed my eyes, thinking that if he was going to be like that, then I might as well go to sleep and block it all out. Several minutes of fruitless trying later, I huffed out a breath and opened my eyes again.

Random dude, that’s what I’ll call him, was staring at me with his nose scrunched up and eyes slightly narrowed. It suddenly occurred to me that it was probably because I looked disgusting.

My hair would be more tousled than normal, all knotted and frizzy from my turning over in bed. It was also greasy. The same goes for my skin; it was oily and shiny. The operation and extra drugs made my usually pale complexion even more ghost-like, making the spattering of freckles under my eyes stand out even more.

Yeah, I concluded, I looked horrible.

“What?” I asked, not meaning for my voice to sound as irritated as it did. Though, he didn’t seem fazed the least bit. Instead of responding properly, he just shook his head slowly with his steel grey eyes never leaving mine. His curly hair flopped loosely, following the movement of his head. The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly, the movement so small and so quick I nearly missed it. But I didn’t.

I felt a blush slowly fill my cheeks, knowing that he caught me looking at his hair. He probably thought I was checking him out. Which I wasn’t, not really anyway; I just think he has nice hair. And eyes, they’re so unique, so pretty. As my blush intensified, I turned my head, rolling away from him to hide my awkwardness.