The Forgotten

I was one of the forgotten. Nobody saw my struggles. No one saw the chaos I saw through my young eyes. But then again, no one bothered to look within the depths of the shadows. That's where I lived my conflicted life-darkness. 

People thought of me as the devil's spawn, yet they knew nothing of my world.  

Born Jacobi Mansu Powells, I was already deemed dumb and stupid. Basically, any word that was the opposite of intelligent meant me; even though, I was at the top of my class. Teachers didn't bother to ask me to answer any questions (I was glad though), while students pushed me around to spy on others since I was the "wallflower". Because of that, I met friends who soon became enemies. Rumors spread aboutme being a liar, a cheater, and a dunce.  

"Why'd you tell Angelica I cheated on her? You little piece of-" My best friend bellowed. 

"She hired me to do it! I didn't want to!" I squeaked. 

"Well then tell Angelica this while you're snitching on people!"  

I came out with two black eyes, a concussion, and a lost friend.  

Those were the days I sat in restroom crying for the help no one  seemed toacknowledge. 

"Someone please help me!" I would cry. 

Silence and even more silence echoed through the stalls, shrinking my shoulders into the rough floor. 

I called those the "Dreamless Days", no dreams brightened my colorless nightmare. Life to me meant nothing more than the pit in my stomach. Life was death, and there was no escaping it.  

You're probably wondering where my parents were through my turmoil. Dead-they were dead. I was an orphan, living and caring for myself until someonefound out. I was completely and utterly alone in a dangerous world. My days went by three at a time, and my loneliness...years. 

Life didn't let up until ninth grade year.  

It was the beginning of the freshmanyear, and everyone was buzzing with life about their summer vacation, except me who did nothing but pay bills and read. Adults didn't just have the hard life.  

The teacher came in, and with a deep voice said, "Good morning class!"  

There was mumbling of voices greeting him.  

"All right, let's introduce ourselves. I am Mr. Grubs, your English teacher. What's your name?" He said, pointing at me, sadly.  

Quietly, I told him, "Jacobi." 

Mr.Grubs raised his eyebrows, "I can't hear you, son." 

A touch louder, " Jacobi." 

"Jacobi who?" 

I was miffed, "Jacobi Powells." He was getting on my nerves.  

"Hmm, you just transferred here, Mr.Powells." 

"No, I've been here for Kindergarten through ninth," I grumped, sucking on my teeth.  

He  looked as if he wanted to ask me even more questions, but decided against it and went around the classroom, where dozens of students had puzzled looks upon their dull faces. I let out a sigh of relief.  

Pretty much the rest of the day went and ended that way. Teachers actually asked me questions. My darkness was slowly crumbling, letting a little light into my world. But everything good does not stay forever, because as soon as I reached the hallway, the darkness crusted my half-empty heart. 

"Hi!" Someone yelled behind me, causing me to jump.  

I turned around to face a gorgeous girl who was in most of my classes.  Her name was Summer, and she lit up the hallway as if she was the very sun. Honestly, her very presence seemed to tear away at the darkness that embedded my heart.