Lost Memories

Starting Today, You Are a Host! Pt.2

Nyomi's P.O.V

"Ugly!" What? "Untalented!" What's going o- "Worthless!" Please stop. "Attention seeker!" That's enough. Please. "Retarded!" BE QUIET! Stop it, please.

Everything suddenly froze. I could finally see some other colors other than default white. The colors merged together to form a picture. It looked like I was in the locker halls of an empty grade school. With inappropriate graffiti spreaded on the dirty green lockers, and the white marble tiles aged and chipping on the edges. Just like any other school, there was a huge clock hanging from the right side of the hall ceiling, and on both sides of the walls were classroom doors that were decorated primarily with superheros or apple posters.

The only door that stood out was room number 19, which was decorated with a big poster of a quote. "Those who are smart don't know all of the answers, but know where to find them." The quote read. I walked over and peaked in through the window. The classroom was empty, the lights turned off and the curtains closed. I opened the door and let myself in. There was this long desk shrouded with papers. It looked as if class was just let out and no one bothered to take their items with them. I smiled softly. Heading over to the teacher's desk, I looked at all of the marked papers laying in neat piles. The teacher had sticky notes that extended like accordions, and many little labels were scribbled on their calendar such like "Dress in no uniform day" and "Day off!". I sat down on the comfy leather chair and looked more into the papers. I opened one of the drawers and found a attendance record. I don't know what prompted me to do it, but I found myself grabbing a pen and grazing it on the paper. Caroline Mishibitsa, Owriti Paribraui, Fuji Jwahame...there were at least 20 names on the paper. My hand drew closer to it as I mentally listed off each name. And then, I immediately drop the pen out of pure surprise. I heard the pound of the pen as it landed on the tile.

My name was at the very bottom of the list, Nyomi Kida. My, name. "How?" I whispered. Suddenly, there was a large ruckus. I abruptly stood up and looked around. I heard screams, hits, banging, books being slammed on the ground. I ran towards the sound with my heart pounding. It was when I made it down a flight of swirling stairs when I found the source of the noises. Young girls and boys were crowding in front of a wall filled with grape juice stains. I heard in the background people yelling, lockers being slammed closed, and the piercing ring of the bell but none of the items moved or seemed disrupted. The students all had their mouths held open, as if they were yelling at someone down on the ground. Heaving in a big breath, I slowly walked over to the crowd. "Hello?" I called out. None of them gave me a response. I tried to nudge them to the side, but none of them budge. I even tried pushing, yanking at their clothes, and shouting on the top of my lungs to get their attention. Still, nothing.

This is really starting to get irritating. What's going on? If only I was a bit taller, then maybe I could actually see what's happening. I walked backwards, tapped my feet together like I was a gorilla, and then ran into the concrete pile of kids. They finally dispersed, but still stuck in their photo perfect positions. As if Medusa herself has stared straight at them.

I shook the uneasy feeling off, and gazed down at the girl sitting down, coddling herself on the tile flooring. Unlike the other students in their plaid pants and white button up uniforms, she was not as still as stone. She was in fact, shivering with her hands up to her ears.

When she saw me, she jumped into my legs and held hard. It was a bit painful, but I was more concerned than hurt. Her eyes, puffy with irritation, were a nice golden hue. They locked into mine, and as I examined them further, I could recognize them. They were my eyes! To the brown hair that was barely making pigtails at the bottom of her head to the skinny noodle stature, that little girl was me! But, how could that be? I don't ever remember being crowded by girls. Coconut always said that everyone loved me in elementary, maybe all of those people were my friends. But that doesn't make sense. I wouldn't be crying if I was talking with my friends.