Nothing Ever Changes

That one

I feel my body aching from the bad position I was at the bus. Slowly opning my eyes, I notice that I'm almost arriving at Hell. Oh, ups, I meant school. Did I? Of course... 

I get out of the old rusty noisy bus and slowly start to walk. Counting each and every step. Each step closer to the most horrendous building in town. With a annoying bell that plays with my dark spiritual depths, that makes me want to stab my ears just for the sake of never having to listen to it or return to this place. Anyways... I'm just delaying myself because there's nothing I can do. I look at my watch - 07:54am - 6 minutes of peace left.

I just wish everything was as peaceful as sleeping, writing or listening to music. I miss writing... I used to write a lot when I was younger. I wrote about all the beautiful things this world had: the colors, the scents, the sky... Everything that made me feel something, I would write it down on a messy notebook or a scrap of paper. But now... Now, nothing makes me feel anything. I mean, I'm not depressed or anything, I just feel kind of... empty. I'm not sad, but I'm not happy either. Whatever.

RIIIINGGG!!

Jesus fucking Christ, some day I'm gonna flip due to this godamn bell and nasty things will happen. Breath, Sam, breath. In and out. 

I let out a tired sigh as I walk straight to my classroom, never looking at anything rather than my tiny feet. I sit in the last chair, on the back (I seem to have a thing with things on the back... the bus, the classroom, life... oh, well).

"Hi, Samantha!", says a cheerful voice coming from the front. I look through my messy bangs and find a pair of happy blue eyes gazing intensly at me.

"Hey, Brianna."

"I told you a million times, Sammy, it's Bri!", says her, pretending to be mad. She then laughs out loud, genuinely. This girl makes me think of those cute little girls from animes that every single human being loves. And she kind of his. Big blue eyes, ginger hair, long and skinny legs, and a smile to die for. You might think that she is a bitch and she only talks with the popular ones, but you're wrong. Because she talks to me, and, trust me, I am NOT popular. She is nice to everyone, and everyone likes her. The boys due to her amazing looks, the girls due to her fantastic personality. 

Another sigh. But it's not a jealousy sigh. Because I don't wish to be like her. I coulnd't even stand half the attention she gets. I just wonder... How different can two people be?

I'm suddenly awakened by a strong noise of collision. The entire class looks to the door, and there's a guy standing there. He looks at us, startled, with his mouth half opened, rosy cheeks a drop of sweat running down his face.

"Is this Class B-2?", asks him, with a deep low voice.

The representant of the class answers him negatively, and I find myself hiding between my dark hair. Hiding from what? Him? No, there's no way. Why would I? I don't ever get intimidated by the bullies of this school.

I force myself to look at the door again, but he's gone. I try to remember his face. During the few seconds of his existence in my life, the only things I remember are the deep dark brown eyes, the curly hair and his skinny-looking body. 

Why am I even trying to remember him?