worn out.

N For Nonchalant

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The speaker seamed to drone on, his thin head stock still on his stiff, brittle neck and his sharp narrow hazel eyes mimicked calm but they all knew there was a storm behind the dim hazel orbs.

The first chance they got, the main campus patronized 3-E. They joked at their expense, taunting and ridiculing without restraints and restrictions, without limit, but no-one would stop them, not a single soul in the depths of earth would guide them through life, but that is fine. It's always fine, they would all die after all, if the upperclassmen continue to taunt them to insanity, they would give up. Then the world would come to an end and they could only blame themselves in retaliation.

A bird chirps a happy song, as a butterfly lands on a certain alien teacher. His face was a metalic silver, an odd change from the normal bright yellow it is. He blinks his beady black eyes and watches the leaves away in a breeze, brilliant greenery overwhelms the mountain. Fungi grows on the stem of a tree, draining all life from it, killing for its own survival, what a funny concept.

He decides to break the rules and head down, squishy limbs closing the hollow wooden door behind him. It echoes once he leaves, zooming through the sky.

The butterfly lands on a desk in the back of the aliens class, wings coming to a standstill, yes this is where it will die.

Atsu stares at the polished wooden floor, his head is in the sky, in the clouds as the blabbers of his classmates fill the empty space around him, it's all so calm. So quiet. So slow, Atsu thinks. His eyes are closed, boredom looks him in the face and he looks right back. He's just about ready to doze off.

"You are the cream of the crop, this year's shining elite, never forget that." The dean says, his wrinkled face put in a patronizing smile to the sea of students before him, how condescending this system is. Crooked teeth break into a terrible grin as he warns them of falling down to the horrid level of E-class. Oh, what a travesty, how terrible.

Atsu ignores it, everything, all of it fades to a white noise, he can't see, everything is too dark. He never learned how to swim. The salt infested liquid burns at his coal orbs. He snaps out of it, he's in school, there is no ocean.

Static rings in his ears, his eyes seem heavy again, he doesn't understand why, he'd slept enough today. He should feel fine, the nightmares only came when he least expected, so if he expects them, they can't come and he can go back to being numb.

Atsu cannot shake the dreadful feeling from splitting his gut open.

The speech drones on far too long about things they've all heard before, about small fixes and making routines to study. The annual midterm is coming up, they have to do this, it's a warning, Atsu ignores it. His head is stuck underwater and he can't hear a thing, his ears are stuffed with cotton and his eyes are full of fear, he can't breath, his lungs are dying, full of sin.

He let's out a breath of something like relief when the old man stops talking and begins to limp off stage, holding the railing so hard his knuckles become the color of his hair. He sucks it back in when the student body president walks up on stage, shoulders broad and a nervous grin on his soft face.

Dark green hair and black-blue eyes hidden behind black rimmed oval glasses, Atsu looks him in the eye and the student council president gulps, his adams apple jumps on his throat and he places a mask of confidence above his fear. Sweat breaks out across his face, a shiver running up his spine.

Atsu looks upward, away from the young politician in the making, his thoughts drift to before the incident, to his first meeting. He can almost feel his school tie strangling him, not that he cares. Not that it matters.