The weather's nice

It's really nice

The weather's nice today; it wasn't too sunny, too hot. In short, it was nice... well about as nice as it could get for others anyways. My classmates seem to really enjoy it actually, then again today is the last of school and summer vacation's going to start tomorrow. The whole class is celebrating; having a farewell party and all that. It's loud and frankly annoying since they couldn't really control themselves.

At least everyone's having a great time, wish someone would talk to me. But alas, my fate seems to be that I must be alone here, sitting next to the window with my sketchbook and mechanical pencils in front of me while I admire how nice the weather it is today. Then again, I don't really mind.

"You alright?" one of my classmates asks, taking a seat next to me, "You look like you'd rather be somewhere else, and frankly it's a bit creepy since... Well....?"

"Bored and uninterested" I say, finally helping them with the term their looking for. They were doing hand gestures like as if the word was on the tip of their tongue but they just couldn't say it.

"Yeah..." they finish lamely, I chuckled since well, they're not wrong; it's just that I have a lot on my mind recently.

"Don't worry, I'm alright," I tell them while opening up my sketchbook, trying to see if I can make something "It's not that I'm not enjoying it, I just have a lot on my mind recently"

"Well, you know that you can talk to us, right? We're a family here, so don't hesitate when you want to talk to us about anything that's bothering you. Be it homework or other problems"

"We'll see about that"

I laughed softly when they started hitting me, saying 'what do you mean by "we'll see?!'. Sometimes my classmates are really hilarious. We kept chatting about mundane things like how hard it is to write essays, solving math problems, etc.

After a while, they stole a glance at what I was doing, my sketchbook lay open for them to see what I made. My classmate was quiet; they tend to do that whenever they see me making something.

"How do you that?" they ask, taking a closer look at what I was doing. I just shrugged, I don't really know either. Sometimes I'll just sit down and start doodling or sketching. It's not like I study art. It's more of like a hobby for me. Before I could answer though, someone else called them over, saying it was important. My classmate quickly said goodbye and went with them, I kept on working on my sketch and smile after it was finished.

It was a sad picture to look at really; I didn't really have anything on my mind while I was working on this, so maybe my subconscious is telling me something. Ah, it's probably nothing.

Suddenly, while I was thinking about this particularly weird piece that I somewhat created, I heard someone crying. I looked around trying to find where the sound was coming from, finally I spotted them, they were shaking form the sobs that are wracking their body now, I asked them if they were okay but didn't get the chance to know their answer, because soon enough almost everyone was by their side.

Seeing that I wasn't really needed anymore, I just stood to the side to watch them. They seemed like a real family. Ironic really, everyone seems so nice and friendly to each because they are but sadly enough, I didn't feel that from them. The way that they always seem to act around me gave me doubts of ever being a part of this family and seeing them like this, it just proves to me that no matter how hard I try, I will probably never be a part of their family. It doesn't really hurt anymore, I tried to fit in but it looked like that it wasn't possible for me to fit in. Everyone standing in this room, right now, has known each other for a while already and I was just a stranger.

They're crying now, almost everyone was with the exception of a few but; those few exceptions are on the verge of tears. It was also almost time to leave; I didn't really want to take part in this touching moment. It felt like I was disturbing a special moment between a family and its members.

Hurriedly, I packed my things, grabbed my bag, and left the place where the farewell party was being held. Before I could leave though, it looks like one of my classmates saw me leave and told me to come back since it was the last day we had together as classmates. I just shook my head and said that I had to go. They didn't try anymore after that.

I was just about to cross the street when someone shouted my name; I looked back and saw my classmate, the one that accompanied me by the window, holding my sketchbook. Surprised I took a look inside my bag and saw that my sketchbook was indeed, not in it. Sighing, I walked back to get it from them, meeting me halfway on the road. I muttered a quick 'thank you' and a 'sorry' since I thought that it was bit of an inconvenience for them.

Finally saying goodbye to them with my sketchbook in hand, I went on my way reaching the street where I was going to cross before my classmate called me. I checked both my left and my right before crossing to make sure that I there weren't any cars or jeeps, once I was sure that the road was clear, I crossed the road while flipping through my sketchbook until it stopped on a certain page.

It was a drawing I made a few days ago. I took a pen that I always keep in my pocket to write something on it. When I finished writing, something hit me. I didn't know what it was but I know that I've been knocked a few feet away from the road. It looked like that whatever hit didn't stop and just went on its merry way.

I could see blurry figures coming towards and I could hear voices from them, but they seemed so far away. I couldn't feel anything, everything was just a jumbled mess, something red was forming around me but I couldn't find it in myself to care. I turned my head to see the sky, it was a nice view, it was making me drowsy.

Voices were calling my name, shouting for me to stay awake, but what do they know? I just want to rest and close my eyes, besides even if I did listen to them it would still be useless. 

Everything was already fading to black.