Writing For All

"The Cabinet of Disease" edit

As of now, the schedule for our "meetings" will be on Mondays, Thursday and Saturdays. If any of these days don't work well for anyone, tell me and we can try to work something out to reschedule.

Today, I thought we could do an edit. I've started a list of everything that everyone has volunteered and we'll just slowly go through that and I can add more if anyone wants to volunteer any.

Today we have and exert from The Cabinet of Disease by Spirit.

...

Well, hello there, I guess. Oh, right, you are here for the story, aren't you? Well, I guess I'll have to tell you one now that you're here. What story should I tell...? My life isn't that interesting.

Wait a second. I could tell you about that time that my friend and I almost ended the entire human race as we know it. That was pretty eventful.

Alright then, sit down and get comfortable, because we've got a long way to go. Now, let me tell you the story of a sociopath, a Russian, and a forgotten cabinet in the science room storage closet...

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I sat in my first hour, doing a whole lot of nothing. I dragged my pencil across the page, curving my line slightly. I had been drawing my entire life; since the rime I could even pick up a pencil to now, my junior year of high school. Lots of people said that my drawings were great; I never thought so. Hell, I still don't think so.

I was one of the few people who never went and socialized out in the hallways or went down to the cafeteria to meet up with friends or anything like that. I always went straight to the classroom, no matter how much I hated my teacher. Thankfully for me, the teachers were usually out talking with their teacher friends, so they weren't in the room with me anyway.

I mostly used this time to think. God knows I didn't get any time to do that at home. Being able to ave this twenty minutes to myself to think did a lot to help my mental stability. Although, it did allow for them to speak to me.

Who is 'them', you ask? They are the voices that my mind conjured one day so I would have someone to talk to. Now, this isn't your average 'the voices told me to kill him' kind of thing. No, it's more of a group of friends who don't have the option to leave you. They also all have different accents, and they help me out with different things, each one of them having better advice for certain things than the others. There are about four, with another one that I don't speak to very often. Also, hey don't have names, just titles. Don't worry, you'll figure out who is who pretty quickly.

But anyways, since my science teacher is nice, he lets us choose out seats instead of making us all uncomfortable and disrupting class by whispering across the room. I always loved it when teacher did this so I could choose the spot at the back left corner of the room, where no one ever wanted to sit in any class. I always got the whole section to myself.

I don't have many friends, and I only share one class with only two of them. The only other time I see them is during my munch period, which I am okay with. It makes doing group projects hell, though.

I was sitting in the back of the room, drawing all over the page and spacing out, not really paying attention to anything in particular, when the late bell rang. I must have missed the first bell while I was thinking, I thought, closing the book and sliding it back into my bag. When the intercom buzzed, everyone in the class stood to do out weird pledge thing. I always stand, but I never actually say it. I don't think that, given that the time comes, I would be completely allegiant to anyone but myself. And I don't lie to myself.

After the class did their little chant they sat back down and the teacher walked in, half dragging another person behind him. The second person stumbled in, then straightened and brushed himself off before whispering something to the teacher. The teacher, Mr. Stanley, whispered something back and pointed right to my desk. I rolled my eyes and sighed. This kid must be new. I always got stuck sitting next to the new kids. Luckily for me there hadn't been any new kids yet this year.

The new student walked back to my table, fidgeting with the sunflower pendant of his necklace. I took a mental note of that nervous tic. Doing things like that is a hobby of mine. It lets me be able to read people, and pretty well, too.

"Everyone, this is Ivan Popov, and he will be joining our first hour. Be nice." Mr. Stanley said before turning to the board and starting to write things down.

I noticed a sight twitch when the teacher said this kid's name. His last name sounded Russian, so maybe he said it wrong?

"He said your name wrong, didn't he?" I asked. Well, it was more of a statement. Ivan ooked at me, confused.

"How did-"

"You twitched when he said your first name, your last name sounds Russian, and you are wearing a sunflower around your neck, which happens to be the national flower of Russia. That's where you're from, right? I replied, writing something down in my notebook quickly before closing it up and putting it away again. This person might make an interesting conversational partner. I let my head fall lazily to the side, letting the American take over. She was one of the voices that I hear a lot. They can use me as a moderator if they want to talk to other people, too. But only if I allow it.

The Russian still looked stunned. "Oh. Da-I mean yes!- I am Russian." He spoke slowly, like he didn't really know if what he was saying was what he wanted to say.

"I'm not your average American, and I speak a little of the more common Russian. Like da, for example." Ivan continued to watch me quizzically before turning his attention back to the front, where Stanley had finished writing.