Angst

Chapter one - Canvas Notebook

Scribbling. Scribbling on a canvas notebook with an graphite pencil. That's all that was heard. Or not heard. No one could really hear it over the screeching of a freshly polished floor. Neither could she. Not over the blaring music. The music only she heard. From the thin black wire visible to only those looking for it. No one was looking for her. Why would someone look under the bleachers. The place only accessible if you knew where to look. Even if you saw her, you wouldn't. A nobody.

An abundantly loud whistle was perceived as probably shattering eardrums. It was a faint hum to her. She knew the hum all too well though. It's what signaled her to direct her mind toward the less important things. This was her daily routine now and it has been for the past 2 years. Walk into gym, sit on the bleachers like a normal child, scoot to the to left corner and sink down through a space made by an unaffordable missing seat. She was in the class, but she wasn't.

The girl waited for the peers she never acquainted with to leave into locker rooms. The teacher typically left the gymnasium to go to his office and take a shot of whiskey. A bitter, old, divorced, middle age, white, cis, male. Such a shocker he's the one slowly developing alcoholism.

Following her daily routine or as she said; presence of acting upon - wait for him to leave, toss her notebook and phone with a careless manner that seemed too planned, on the seat beside, put her arms above and pull herself up.

Only this time was different. She pulled herself up and as she was trying to escape the hold of the gloomy underside of a seating, a shadow towered over her. Her eyes only seeing the shade from the mountain of person and a black converse. She looked up to see a hand in her face. Offering help she assumed. She locked hand in hand and was hastily pulled up. Who ever was pulling her up was strong, but looked somewhat frail. That made her wonder. The only strong beings in the vicinity of her school were the "jocks". However they would never wear black converse.

When she was to her feet she met eyes with a same soul. She knew she would be his friend, that they would be friends. She was such an awkward person, which didn't help meetings like this be any easier. She forgot to remove her hand, and her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak and no words emerged like she intended. Like breath with no sound. Causing a chuckle to arise. Still hand in hand with the unknown being.

"Are we gonna stop shaking hands or..." he trailed off smiling. "Right, sorry." She seemingly blurted out and led her hand away. "So what where you doing down there in the first place?" Questioning her actions with a remarkable but undistinguishable accent. "It's quiet and dark. Those are two of my favorite things." She said trying to laugh off the awkwardness. "I'm guessing drawing is one as well?" He said pointing to her canvas notebook, previously tarnished by graphite and color. "I bet your a great artist-" trailing of to catch her name. "Beck." She said almost confused and unknowing of her own name. "Interesting name, Beck, I'm Blake" he and her still holding hands. She opened her mouth to apologize. Like before, no sound, only air. "I'm sorry I'm, awkward, and I, yeah." She said trying to laugh off the what seemed tense, to her at least. He was fine with it, he adored the shyness. "No your fine-" cut off by her words like a knife. "No, I really should go." Scampering down the stairs, running to get away, walking to remain calm.

A new day was brought about, a new morning, bought with it. Even if the noise of screaming children and teenagers was present, it what she was used to, and still astounded by. Hearing a teenager scream at a child for doing something wrong was the astounding aspect that happened quite too often. "You ruined my headphones!" "No I didn't!" Was heard by and angry teen and child debating a subject hardly worth pondering about, let alone scream about. She just walked past the lesser importance to any shockingly empty room. The most famed room in the vicinity. The kitchen. She began making a boiling hot batch of, what she called, drugs in a pot. It was more commonly named coffee.

A small child ran over to the girl and tugged on her shirt. "Go away Timothy, I'm not in the mood to play yet. Go ask Jason." The overly grumpy teenager groggily requested. The child was stricken by an expression of sadness, and ran off to probably do as instructed.

Once the piping hot caffeine was done brewing, she poured herself a mug, and fixed it to her preferable desire. Walking outside in early October, in rural Maryland was nice. She sat on a bench in the front garden and just pondered. It was one of the things that kept her sane. She sat with black and white polka doted pajama shorts, black slippers, and a my chemical romance tank top. She solemnly sat sipping at the tan colored caffeine in her hands.

She needed to depart to school in close to an hour, so she safely assumed she needed to go begin getting ready. Beck jumped up from the bench and made her way to her room where she grabbed a Falling in Reverse shirt, some ripped black skinny jeans, and a pair black converse. An old style, still fresh to her. She made her way into the bathroom, certain to seal the door shut with the twisting price of metal on the door knob, to keep out the rugrats and creeps. Not a new action to her.

After her shower she got dressed, dried her hair, and did her makeup with an over exaggerated black wing on her not-so-subtle eyeliner. The teenage girl made sure to put in her nose expensive nose and lip wrings. She left her room with satisfaction in her decisions that morning so far. Walking into the kitchen to lay her eyes upon the small creatures and different bodies all eating breakfast. "Well this is a shock." She said into the open. "Whats different?" One of the creatures asks. "The fact all of you are eating breakfast, together." She said referring to the teens and children. "I have to drive them to school today." Motioning to the 3 somewhat small children. "Their bus broke down." Giving a further explanation. The angsty teenage girl sat at the kitchen island "Really? Bacon? Your so gross." Beck said scoffing. "Just because I'm not a vegan, like you, doesn't mean I'm gross." The boy in which she had previously been talking to, Jason, responded with. She scoffed and rolled her rates at his remark. "Since your driving the nuisance to school, your also taking them." She said while gesturing to the 3 other, somewhat teens at the table who had yet to speak. "Fine but your taking them tomorrow." The boy retaliated with. "Whatever." She said walking out of the door grabbing her keys and book bag.

She jumped in the car similar to her look. Old style, but fresh to her. She only owned the car for the simple reason it had loud speakers. On her way down the boulevard she had seen all her life. It was always odd seeing during the day. She plugged the aux cord into her phone and played some Panic at The disco songs broken dreams. She cranked the muffled sounds to 100 problems shattering her ear drums like the whistle from everyday most likely already had. This was an oxymoron added to her favorite things. She liked the dark, and quiet, but only if she could be blaring music through her ears.

She pulled up to her own personal hell not really caring what the day brings. She got out of the tin can and locked it with a loud beep that has always gave her a headache. She walked through the gates, greeting Satan, or as most called him the principal. She stopped by her locker and did the unimportant necessities. She made her way to the jail of numbers and got every question right. She made her way to the room of literal heaven where she wrote stories and drew pictures. Then to the one place she could relax, gym. Repeating actions, she was now under the in need of paint plastic seats. She reached for her sketch book to find a vacancy in where it's typical home was. Not a moment later after a small panic attack, a body fell though the hole she used herself to arrive at her current position. The body got up and moved towards her. When the face came into focus it was the boy from yesterday she had a previous encounter with the day before. He knelt down hand chuckled. "You left your sketchbook on the bleachers yesterday." She let out a breath of air she didn't know she was holding in. Before she could grab it, he pulled it back. "You have to give me your number first.