Colors of Paris ◇ Elijah Stevenson

Chapter One

^^Who wouldn't love this face?

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Four years earlier...

There are different cliches that are part of school. The movies that have the whole dramatic scene where it shows the different ones is nothing like this school. Even though there are many cliches in this school it seems like they correspond with each other and always blend together anyways. Just like colors on a canvas the warm colors can blend with the cool colors to make something different. Doesn't mean that the outcome is beautiful or not.

But once in a while there are those who you know will come out to be a great masterpiece.

The bell rings the same at this school though. When the bell rings the once crowded halls become to be a ghost town. The teachers close their doors and lock them up because of the huge bomb threats threats.

No bombs. No just a regular person that wants to put "I got it" on a piece of paper and throw it in the toilet without flushing.

It could be anything. The amount of things that note could have meant is a list bigger then Santa's naughty list.

But nonetheless one person can make a great day at school turn into bad. There can be other possibilities as long as the amount of due papers from the seniors. That's another story though. Another time.

I look around the halls and there is no one around. No one to hear me throw papers on the floor. They won't hear me take down the stupid posters from prom that should have been down a long time ago anyway.

I am hitting my breaking point of my senior year. i want it to be all over. No more having to try so hard to get the perfect A's. No more having to stay up all night to get up early in the morning and see all these people. All theses people who would look at me with nothing but boredom sprawled across their faces.

I know I am. I know that. There shouldn't have to be some stupid freshmen that could tell me this. I try my hardest to succeed. And right now I am not. The world seems like it is crumbling down on me.

There isn't anyone that can calm me down. There isn't anyone that can make me think differently about this whole semester. Nobody.

I am at a new school now. Going into my senior year and I still only have a few friends. But I never got to fit in.

Instead I have been called potato head over and over again.

Trust me it gets old after a while.

I slam the door open to a room and look into the little complex before slamming it shut. The only door that was open in the hallway. I hear something though in the room i am currently in. Even though the complex itself is small there is a little room in it. Sort of like an office or a closet of some sort.

I slowly walk to the thing that is making the noise and I can hear someone talking. The voice seems not so peaceful and whoever is playing it sounds like he or she wants to get revenge with someone. I hear it change to a raspy voice. A guy's voice.

I furrow my eyebrows and guide myself to the door of the closet. I look around a moment or two and then peer in slightly.

A guy with a denim jacket and brown hair is having his back turned to the door frame so i can be here listening to him without him knowing. I don't know why I am still here because I was looking for a spot to cry and vent myself to but now that i know it isnt vacant why am I still in here?

I lean on the door frame and listen to the guy obviously voice act. His voice having a great vibration and raspyiness to it that I find it addicting. The voice can pull anyone in and make them stay. It's like those chocolate muffins that i was addicted to at the coffee shop on the street I grew up to.