Devil

Chapter 1

Justin Bieber:

I walk down the loud rowdy hallways, like usual; and also like usual, people look up to stare at me. Some give me dirty looks.  Some whisper. And some try to look away.

They’re the ones that are scared, scared of me.

It was now the third week into school and rumor had gotten out about what happened during the summer, and what had happened to my father. I swear the whole school was whispering the same thing.

"Did you hear about what happened to psycho's dad?"

I don’t want kids to be scared of me but I'd much rather have them be quiet than to be talking shit to me like the others.

“Weirdo.”

“Freak.”

“Psychopath.”

Now, what I don’t get sometimes is why people would provoke someone who is – what they call and know to be – a psychopath? Why get someone angry? Someone who might harm you and probably get you killed.

Idiots, right?

I walk into the half empty, half full English classroom.

But this time it doesn’t happen like every night in my dreams. I don’t kill them, unfortunately.

I take my seat in the row that’s closest to the wall that also happened to be right in the middle of a lousy jock and a perky little blonde. Shit heads.

I’m now wondering as to why I decided to sit here in the first place and why I hadn't taken another seat but then the bell rang and people started to pour in, taking in every other seat in the class.

Fuck high school.

I was about to plug in my earphones to start listening to some music to tone down everyone when I heard Mrs. Miller speak up.

Stupid bitch.

I hated her. I’ve had her as an English teacher for the past two years, for my final grade she gave me a C+ when I rightfully deserved a B- and in all honesty, everyone hated her and she hated everyone else, but only God would know why she would teach the same junior class right after having them to teach them the year before. Though I did have an idea why: she was fucking the jock sitting right in back of me.

I feel as if I was the only one who noticed the looks that they both gave each other and the extra tutoring hours she gave him, and why he had the highest grade percentage in the entire class. Even Sarah, the class nerd and possibly the junior class’ valedictorian, was below him.

So anyways, stupid bitch (Mrs. Miller) starts blabbing on about a new student joining our class.

And the ignorant non new student (me) doesn’t care.

I decided to finally look up from my book and I swear I saw one of the most beautiful smiles I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I think I stared at her for too long and scared her off because she gave me a weird look when she went back to her seat.

I tend to have a harsh stare, so I've been told. But this wasn’t one of those “I hate you” and “why are you still breathing” stares. No, this was a “why haven’t I ever seen you before” stares.

I knew I’d never get the chance to ever talk to her though and even less, be friends with the girl. I knew I should have stopped staring at her but I just couldn’t.

For some reason, I was drawn to her.

I’m not normally drawn to people.

But she seemed…. Interesting? I don’t know what it was but I knew one thing; I couldn’t stop staring at her.

Every time she looked back over at my direction, I would be staring at her and she’d just bow her head down in embarrassment and try to hide herself from my view – it seemed to me that – she’d blush and smile too. That made me, sort of, smile too. I finally looked away and I started feeling nervous and I usually don’t feel nervous, I only felt nervous when I got panic attacks and I couldn't control it. That’s usually the only time. But this time, my heart was racing and I could hardly breathe.

I don’t understand.

Before I knew it, the bell for the next period had rang and I ran out through that door as fast and as far as my legs would take me. I just had to get out of there.

I took my regular seat in my Social Studies class, hoping that she wouldn’t be in this class as well because I’d be way too embarrassed. Yet a part of me still hoped she’d be in this class too.

This is weird.

I feel weird.

I couldn’t get her smile out of my head. It was a naturally perfect, embracing, beautiful fucking smile and I couldn’t stop thinking about it; about her.

This is stupid. You don’t even know her, Justin.

I sighed and grabbed my pen and notebook from my backpack. I clicked on the pen to get the point out, opened up my scribbled and sketched on notebook and I started to write down my name and the date.

I actually enjoyed this class a lot. I loved history. I’m basically a history text book myself.

Mr. Schad turned off the lights and the whole class fucking erupted in stupid screams from stupid girls and stupid laughs from stupid dicks, I rolled my eyes at all of them. He does this every day, chill the fuck out. And there are fucking windows, there’s still light, don't go screaming like you just saw a ghost.

So scratch that thing about me enjoying this class, I actually hate this class a lot. I hate people. It’s not my fault people are so stupid.

I laughed a little to myself as I stared down at my notebook and jotted down the notes that were up on the projector.

And today we were talking about Adolf Hitler.

The oh so great and powerful Fuehrer.

That guy just held the grudge for way too long.

And as I was writing down the notes of this failed artist that soon later became a supreme leader, I began to daydream.

I still couldn't stop thinking about her. As much as I tried, I couldn't keep my mind off of her. All I thought of was her, her gorgeous smile, and her long brown hair and her rosy cheeks. I actually wish - for once in my life - that I had paid attention to Mrs. Miller when she was introducing her to the class just so I could know her damn name.