Spontaneously Written

So. . . HELLO! to anyone who ends up reading this.

When I was bored one day, on a Thursday with a delayed opening for school the next day, and homework-free from state standardized testing as well, and I was la-di-da-ing about the wonderful web, I decided to spontaneously write a story. Whatever story ends up below is fairly unplanned and will end up going wherever it ends up going, as it is plot-less and... uh... unplanned.

So... HERE WE GO!

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I look out the window and am immediately depressed. See, the thing is, there isn't actually a window. Or rather, there is a window, but. . . it's a window that looks out to a concrete wall shoved up against it. So really it's pointless. Life just put it there to make me sad. Because that's what life likes to do to me. Make me sad. 

Well, either way, I looked out the window and was saddened. 

This is one of the issues with this school. It's saddening. Some would go so far as to say it's downright unpleasant, which is pretty much true. 

Now, with my spirits low, I swivel in my seat to face Jemma. Jemma is, at this moment, my only enemy. Her hair is as purple as the most evil purple thing anyone will ever think up (and that makes her astoundingly evil and purple) and cut in a very severe sort of fashion. Her eyes are also purple, and freakishly shiny, like someone poured glitter all over them or something. Maybe she did herself. She's evil enough to withstand the pain of pouring glitter all over her eyes and more than vain enough to do it anyway. Jemma also is very tall and painfully skinny, but not because she doesn't have food; it's because her body is built that way. Some might go so far as to call her bony, and because we hate each other, I utterly agree.

Jemma is also more pretty and smart than someone like her should have permission to be, and therefore she constantly grates against my nerves.

"Sid," Jemma says in the most obnoxious tone of anyone on the planet.

"What?" I snap.

"You're supposed to be helping me," She places a hand on her plaid skirt-clothed hip. I notice with some satisfaction that the uniform does favors to no one, not even Jemma, who seems to have had every domino in place her entire life. 

"I am helping you," I frown.

"No, you're staring like an idiot out the window at absolutely nothing," Jemma retorts.

"Actually, I'm gazing intelligently out the window at the fascinating shade of gray of that interestingly textured wall."

Jemma swears under her breath and looks at me like I'm a cockroach, so I swear under my breath and look at her like she's escaped from the asylum next door. Which is totally conceivable, seeing as there's actually an asylum next door and Jemma is crazy enough to qualify.  We keep looking at each other for a few moments until I get scared I'll admire her eyes and decide to walk away. 

"I take it you're not helping me, then, you--"

"Nope," I pull open the fake-wood door of the gloomy closet/classroom and glance behind my shoulder long enough to tell her, "You have fun now!"

Jemma sends me a glare that easily could have fried a cute animals. 'Cause that's what she does in her free time. Fries cute animals. Horrible girl.

The hallway is dimly lit and perhaps gloomier than the weensy closet/classroom in which I was supposed to have helped Jemma. There aren't many people out now, because most of the kids are moping in the cafeteria, since it's lunchtime. I don't particularly want to go in there and make myself more depressed, so I sit right there on the floor, my back warm against the cold metal of dented lockers. I'd go out into the city if it wasn't even more depressing out there and I didn't have just one strike left.

Fortunately, Ohk comes from out of nowhere and brightens my iffy day. 

"Wonderful pie today, no?" He slides down next to me, speaking in a ridiculous Prep accent.

I reply with the same cadence, "Yes, simply delightful. I especially enjoyed the small children baked within." 

"I prefered the sewage kind, but the kids tasted delightful as well."

"Is that so?"

"Absolutely so." We glance at each other, my friend with one green eyebrow raised, and crack up instantly.

"I'm gonna miss you," Ohk says between breaths of amusement. 

Why did he have to bring that up now? I already felt guilty enough for getting out of here before my time was up while leaving him with such awful company as Jemma and the rest of the mentals who went to this school without having to talk to him about it. I try to inject some light into the conversation. "Yeah, what other loser are you going to hang out with all day?"

"Really, Sid," Ohk continues. "You know you don't have to go."

I look at him feeling like the biggest jerk of the century. "You know I've got to go. I can't stay here and rot away."

"Would rotting away really be that bad? The alternative isn't much better and I mean... It's not like you  haven't got anything to lose. Education, family, friends..." He trails off. 

"I can't stay here, Ohk," I say, looking away. "I just can't."

When I turn back, he's already gone. 

Thursdays we have only half as much school; it ends at twelve. It's over now. When the bell rings, I get up slowly and make my way to my stupid locker.

Today has been unpleasant. Some would, no, I'd go so far as to say it was downright horrible.

☁☁☁☁

And there we have it. Spontaneously written. Suggestions welcomed, seeing as this can go anywhere at this point. ;)

See y'all later! (Why yes, I did just use "y'all", and yes, it felt wicked good).