snke

one

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Red cup chilling with my hands up
Killing it, I can't stop
Sinning, but I'm winning, so lifted
I'mma take you there
 LULLYBY | NIYKEE HEATON 
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one

He stood in front of the class, waiting for the teacher to find a table to sit him in, not knowing the teacher couldn't care less where he sat. He'd lost count of all the schools he'd been in. Assume what you must, he wasn't a bad student, just a bad person. The type of bad person he was being defined as direct, conniving, and worst of all greedy. He was no joker, but took pleasure in responding honestly, often cruelly, to people with low self esteem. His smile was lopsided, effortless, and a simple accessory of his face that truly never meant anything but curiosity.

His smile was binded on his face as his eyes focused on the new class. A large public school with around thirty students all crammed into one room. A teacher wearing an old outfit that was fading in color and the seams were pulling apart. Students that couldn't care less about the new student.

"Emon?" the teacher yelled to the him, even though they were but a few feet apart.

"It's Eamon." he clarified.

The teacher handed him a folder filled with white stacks of paper. "Eamon then, here's all the work you missed the first semester. Find somewhere empty and take a seat." As the teacher started organizing the noisy classroom and Eamon walked the aisles of desks, students started quieting down. Their eyes shifting to the tall student who'd walked into his senior class as if being late to the school year was not enough and had decided to be late to class as well.

Slowly the silence became whispers and murmurs about Eamon. Someone had heard from their cousin, Eamon had been suspended for punching a teacher. Other say he sold cocaine and got caught by the cops. Rumors spread like ripples into the ocean of students, by lunch everyone in the overpopulated school had heard of the criminal Eamon, a criminal whose rich parents had bailed out of jail. They had coerced their own story into his truth. He didn't mind because he'd been used to turning a fabrication into fact.

The ripple made ended a few desks away from Yong, the snake's daughter. She was a strange girl with eyes that were slightly hooded, a small sharp nose of a bird, and lavish dark pink lips. She had her eyes closed, but there was no way she could completely shield her ears without her forgotten headphones.

A single chuckle escaped her lips, which was enough to catch her neighbors attention, she made her chuckle cynical, it dripped and slid into their ears and that made those around her curious.

"Do you know something uhm.. What's your name?" the girl next to her asked, avoiding looking at her face.

"Yong." she said.

"So do you?"

Yong's head leaned to the side and a wisp of a smirk crawled on her face. "I know the the truth." she dared taunt.

The girl next to her bent over Yong's desk intrigued. "What's the truth?"

"None of the rumors."

Yong stood up and as with prepared timing the bell rang, she walked out of the class leaving the clattering behind walls. The moments she felt the most uncomfortable had always been lunch, with the snake on her face she'd always been a monster in people's eyes, but it never dawned upon her that maybe high school students wouldn't be like that, she never allowed herself to give it a full thought or a try. Would the students react like the elementary and middle school peers who used to step away from the snake on her face?

Before she could give a better thought towards the idea she started increasing her steps, until she arrived in the school's greenhouse, built by one of the science clubs. The greenhouse itself was beautiful, but after the years whatever science club had built it had moved on, leaving the greenhouse without management. The plants inside had grown in a beautiful mess, a mess that only Yong and a small few were aware of.

She sat down on a bench with chipped white paint, her feet propped against a small bucket that once held an abundance of seeds. Her fingers started unwrapping the sandwich her father had prepared before leaving for work. A smile grew on her face like a routine, because the sandwich was a reminder that there was someone who cared for her. But never in her life did she want pity for having only one person who cared. She grew up surrounded by sympathy, so much of it had been stored inside her she had become a shell of remorse.

As her teeth sank into the bread, someone forcefully opened the door and closed it almost as harshly before running to hide behind the bench Yong was sitting at. Yong frowned trying to understand what was going on, she still had the sandwich in her mouth, unable to tear a piece of it for she was still processing the loud body that was hiding behind her.

Finally, her mouth snatched the piece and Yong looked behind her, her eyes meeting a pair of dark blue buttons that were shaded behind rectangularly shaped lids. Captivated she stared at them and they stared back. She hadn't looked at someone in the directly in eyes and been looked back so easily, and now that she was Yong could feel something inside her being pulled. It hurt but it felt better than the emptiness she had felt before.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Who are you?" she repeated.

"I asked first."

Her head leaned to the side and they hadn't lost eye contact for a second, the intensity of the stare didn't match the weakness in their tone. "I was here first." she retorted robotically.

"Eamon." he said.

"Yong." she replied.

AN | honestly i don't expect any reads. But just in case a ghost is reading this as I type. Can I just say how exhausted I am. I made a cover request and got rejected so I decided that I couldn't bare rejection being the wimp I am and made my own cover.. I have like ten different covers now. 

I hate being rejected guys. *double chin face*