Melodies of the Broken

record II: stranger danger

Like I've said before, high school and I did not get along well. 

I had a solid hatred for this hellbent place. And not because of the teachers that worked at this so-called "high education" institution, but because of the students that attend this godforsaken place.

Kimberly High followed the stereotype about teenagers my age being egotistical, ruthless, and all-around fake.  

The fact that these kids were proud to be Austin's "Trash People" used to surprise me at first, but the more you spend time with these clowns, the clearer the picture gets. It's the only way to distinguish them from the sane population. As if they were important; celebrities of the sort. 

Another clue that suggests that humanity is doomed. We suck.

David waved like a child as I turned to face him with a blank look. Leave it to him so he'd try and make my days just a little bit brighter, as he likes to say. Be it getting himself into trouble or joking around like the immature kid that he was, it seems David's only goal is to cast a smile on my face.

But it hardly works. Especially when I've just woken up.

I gave him a subtle nod and walked toward the entrance. As the glass doors pushed back, I placed my hands inside the denim jacket's pockets and pressed the play button on my iPod. Music blasted through the speakers as my eyes roved around the hallway; already filled with the hormonal teenagers that I had no intention of seeing.

Honestly, the only thing that kept me from exiting Kimberly High and call it a day was Mötley Crüe's 'Home Sweet Home' soothing my ears. 

I trudged through the crowded hallway, making sure I didn't catch anyone's gaze as I did so. I could see the self-dubbed popular kids standing off to the side with their respective boyfriends and girlfriends. One couple was making out.

It was 7:00 in the morning.

Couldn't they wait until lunch, where people weren't bombarding the already small corridor? 

My face scrunched up in disgust as I passed them. Some drama kids were talking amongst themselves about, "How Hamilton should've been the best, not Romeo and Juliet." The girl who said this must've been asking for war, because a guy gasped in horror, placed a hand over his chest feigning hurt, and screamed how she's a "cold-hearted person."

Drama kids. It's always the drama kids.

It took me a while but I arrived at my locker, still mindful of the hundreds of bodies pressing against me to get to their classes. A guy bumped into me and made me slam my head against the metal wall forcefully.

My eyes narrowed as I turned to look at him, but could feel the color draining from my face as I realized who was in front of me.

An arm slithered around my shoulders and pulled me into a tight hug. Angry noises left me as I tried to pry myself out of his grip, but knew it would be worthless.

Instense icy blue eyes stared me down, this boy's signature smirk filling my entire vision.

Of course, it had to be him.

"Hey, Musa," he spoke, a sly undertone lacing his words. "How are you this evening? Still quiet, eh?"

Two words: Ian Wright. Just thinking about him brought upon the urge to puke on his expensive-looking shoes. As if my past self didn't suffer enough, I found out in Freshman year I'd spend the rest of my high school life with him. 

Now you see where my hatred of public education comes from.

With a forceful push, I managed to get him off of me and I readjusted my tilted headphones. My eyes tried to pierce through his, deadly daggers being thrown at his direction for good measure.