The Unexpected

Chapter 1.

Chapter 1

The Unexpected

     My name is Jason Rogers. And I am captivated.

     A sensation. A sensation is my first feeling each time she crosses my mind. But strangely, I have no idea who she is. For I’ve only seen her in my dreams.  But the longing, the desire to hold her, to protect her, is there. And the anxiety and the repression still linger through my nervous system, waiting for me to fulfill this longing. Yet, I have no idea how to do so; I do not physically know her.

     I didn’t think love was something experienced until you’ve been given the knowledge and the responsibility to handle it. Being only sixteen years of age, many might question my sanity to feel the way I do about the woman of my dreams. But I will pursue until I achieve. This life isn’t worth living until I’ve done all that I can do. And that is exactly how I plan to carry out my existence.

     I consider myself to be a below average teenager. I barely scrape by in school. And my home life isn’t too great either. Having a father whom I’ve never met and a mother whose only way to pay the bills is to sell her body; I find I have a lot of time to myself to think. And having close to zero friends, I don’t necessarily have a single soul to share my secrets or to divulge in trust with. But surprisingly, this is not the part of my life that I am not content with. It’s the fact that my biggest fear is soon to become reality. That not a single person on this planet is specifically designed to be my significant other; that no one will love me for who I am. I just don’t know if I can be patient any longer.

     I lift up from my bed and proceed to take my only alone time that is at my disposal. A hot, steamy shower. This is the part of my day where I plan what is ahead of me.

     I look down at my arms and see the cuts. I see my mistakes. I see my past. And I see my future. Scars left by so many words, appearing on the outside; left to try and change my future. Trying to release this pain. But like so many other things in this lifetime, I have been unsuccessful.

     I finish my shower and get dressed. Then wait on the bus.

     The world flying by at a steady rate, being nothing but a blur. I feel like this day, I feel like this day could be different. I feel like today, could be worse than usual.

     A wave of despair washes over me. For today is the day that we read or poems in front of our class. I don’t doubt my talent, but my stomach and my nerves are proven to become problematic.

     Before I could finish my next thought, we arrived at the hell hole the government likes to call school.

     And I know as soon as my feet touch the pavement I am certain that something is most definitely different. The air feels lighter. The Earth appears to be moving and I’m the only one who seems to notice anything at all.

     Strange.

     Walking through the doors, I hear yesterdays gossip. I hear laughter. I hear emotionally stable people. I see bright futures. And I see a kid picking his nose. I see teachers looking at the kids and thinking, “How am I going to torture these peasants today?” As usual I see the different cliques greet each other with little yelps and air kisses, almost as if it’s clockwork. Then there are the jocks with their chest bumps and bro hugs. And then there are the people like me. The socially awkward, quiet, background people. People like me, without even trying, we make the popular people more desirable. This makes the secondhand people, as some like to call us, the undesirables ‘numero uno’.

     The piercing sound of the school bell signals first period. And with that, the butterflies and the anxiety kick in right on cue.

     I walk in and head to my desk. Praying that the school gets engulfed in a fire so I don’t have to orally present my poem today. But as Mr. Humphrey calls out names of students and they read their words aloud, I barely have any time to spare when I realize that my wish has not come true when he calls my name.

     I feel sweat dripping down my head and a pool on my upper lip. This makes me even more nervous for I get teased a lot about how much I sweat in such an unusual place. I make it to the front of the classroom only to forget my papers on my desk. This is where my awkwardness kicks in. I shyly go back to my desk and quickly walk back. But not before being tripped. Land straight on my face which in turn, shatters my spectacles. Just my luck. I am humiliated. People are laughing and taking pictures. It’s not like I need help screwing up my social life anyways.

     Mr. Humphrey says, “Class, you’ve had your fun. Now can we please pay attention?” I might want to add that none of the teachers are particularly fond of my attendance at this school. All my life I’ve been ignored by everyone who has met me.

     I look at my paper and I’m continuously telling myself, “Don’t puke. Don’t puke. Jason, don’t puke.” I look at my paper, then I look at the eyes of so many people whom I’ve captured their attention.

     And then I began.