Recalled

Nevermore

I walked to the building that held my first hour in it. My mind pondering on that gruesome and horrific nightmare. I left the building that held the main office, (Sam does office work first hour.) I had acting for first hour on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I had to memorize and monologue Edgar Allan Poe's, "The Raven."

Of course all of the Goths and Emos had it memorized down when it was time to perform them. They take that poem to heart like World-War Veterans take the National Anthem! I find it pathetic honestly, but I memorized it anyway...

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping..."

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Sam was busy looking over at Freshman records and putting them in their appropriate places, when the migraine pains arrived. It was a clean flashback, replaying like a crystal clear unetched cd-rom inside of his head.

....Them, just watching him sleep. Their constant heavy breathing haunting his every being. Watching his defenseless soul sleep soundly, not having a clue that danger was right-

"But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door...."

The thought of the underlying danger made him feel sick to his stomach. This did not feel like a dream at all! More like deja vu. He felt it's breathing when he watched himself sleep! And he knew that either they were waiting for him to wake up, and them make their move?

....Or he was supposed to do something....

"'Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -

'Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'

Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted - nevermore!"

I got an A of course. Of course those gross and pale Goths glared at me because they could clearly decipher the mocking and sarcastic underlying tone that I laid in my voice that my teacher clearly could not. But, once again as you have learned, I do not care what they think of me. Their opinions are as irrelevant as a cigarette is to a smoker's health.

First hour went by as quickly as it had come. I was going to band next. Personally, I find them all creeps too, but at least they seem to only worry about playing their music right instead of trying to hit on anyone. I played a tenor saxophone and had to play, "The Great Steamboat Race." I must say, even though there is nothing but losers in this class, they can play music beautifully.

Sam can play music as well, he plays guitar. Acoustic and electric. Don't ask me if it's bass and etcetera because I truly could not tell you! He never played any music for me though, I always wished that he had.He tends to play all old or good stuff.