Deranged [n.h]

Chapter Five

School. The place everyone dreads.

Especially me.

You see, I have no friends - if I have not expressed that before - and me plus big giant social equals no good.

I have only about two and a half friends at my school currently. And I say 'a half' because one of them can be a real bitch sometimes, true say. Their names are Valerie and Hazel. We have all been a group of three since sixth grade. Inseparable. But since she past away, I've started to keep to myself more... I didn't want anyone to feel bad for me or feel sorry and say things like 'You wanna talk about it?'. If I hadn't made it clear, no, I absolutely never want to not will talk about it. I had closed the door on all who have cared about me which has sucked, but I just can't deal with it right now.

Valerie and Hazel were both shocked at the news of her passing. They didn't know how to act. I mean, really, what do you say when your bestfriends mother suddenly dies?

The school bell rings, knocking me out of my reminiscing state. I grab my books from my locker and head to my first class. English.

English has and always will be my best class. I have always been so good and literature and reading since day one. In elementary, I was pulled out of most of my average English sessions and put into advanced a more advanced class. But of course back then, they would never tell you. They would say things like, 'Oh Margaret, come read with me over here,' or 'Lets try writing some more different things'. And from middle school up till now, I had been in Pre-AP classes.

It never seemed hard but rather easy - extremely easy - to the point where I didn't even have to try. And not trying has sort-of become a habit now. In many things.

Class started and Mr.Andrews came in, with a serious look on his face like always. I had Mr.Andrews for all my four years of high school, and he was by far one of my favorite teachers. He was smart in the English literature and knew how to write very well. He even did inspire me to start writing down a few of my own things as well.

"Hello, class. Pull out your writing journals." He sighed heavily after, sitting on his desk. We all followed his rules and prepared for class.

"Okay," he sighed once more. He seemed out of breath.

"Today," he swallowed. "I want you," breath. "to write about a time," breath. "you felt, upset."

The whole class stared at him confusingly. He didn't seem right. We carried on in our journals as Mr.Andrews stepped up and walked to the back of the room where most of our literature books had lied.

He began picking at them, trying to find a book, - still panting - when suddenly, he fainted.

The class did not hesitate to jump out of their seats and circle him. Gasps and muffled 'is he dead?' 's came from the group. Someone had dialed the nurse who came rushing in, checking his pulse.

"Out of the class!" She yelled.

We all exited the classroom, in complete shock. Soon, an ambulance came along with two men carrying a gurney which I'm guessing was for Mr.Andrews.

All around me, girls were crying while the boys sat whispering about it to each other. But me? I didn't feel a thing. I was too used to things like this happening. I just felt numb, like always.

Eventually, they rolled out Mr.Anderson on the gurney with a breath supporter around his mouth. Our principal, Mrs.Johns came and told us we were excused from school the rest of the day, which was odd because we were only in the first period out of eight. I hoped Mr.Andrews a safe recovery as I hopped into my car.

My dad wouldn't be home, so I decided to just head home. I checked my phone to see if maybe Hazel or Valerie had texted, to which my expectation they didn't. I sighed heavily and continued on with the drive.