One month after I killed my parents, I returned to school.
Unnoticed.
You would think the death of my parents would bring attention to me. And yet, not one head turned, not one person flinched as I stepped through those broken-down doors.
How shocking.
I had been hoping to switch schools, not return to the crumbling one I had been attending for the past 3 years.
Its not as if anyone would notice my absence. People didn't notice me when I was standing right in front of them, they certainly wouldn't notice me if I was hundreds of miles away.
Unfortunately, the officer who had been assigned to the task of being my guardian, Joel, had thought it better for me to finish my school year here. That earned her a strike. Her first strike was earned the moment she told me I would be living with her.
Two strikes already
Impressive.
Quite unfortunate for her though, as three strikes does in fact mean death.
It brings quite a lot of confusion along when I try to think about why I started the strike system. Even if they don't get three strikes, its not as if I won't kill them anyways. I assume its just a game I like to play. To see if they'll kill themselves before I get the chance to do it for them.
Because doesn't that just sound fun.
~•~
As I step through those large, broken-down doors, the scent of youth filled the air.
Though I was just the same as those around me, age-wise, I surely didn't act like it. And I knew that. And I knew it wasn't reasonable to hate those around me for their lack of maturity, when my abundance of it was quite unrealistic for my age.
But, it is still me.
And as long as it is, and continues to be, I will not change a thing.
Personally, I think it's them who need to change, if anyone.
Unfortunately, with society being the way it is, and people being the way they are, change is an ideal, it seems, will always be lacked.
No one wants to have to change themselves.
If it's them that needs changing, it's you.
~•~
The school day passed, and not one mention of my parents.
Not one flinch as I passed through those dark hallways. Not one turn of the head as I stepped into those dim, decayed classrooms.
No teacher spared a look, no student a whisper.
I remained just as invisible as before.
It was as if nothing had changed.
But something had changed. A big something, in fact.
Yet, I was not but a ghost.
I suppose it's not fair I expected so much of everyone. Why would they notice anything unless it has something to do with that little black box?
How stupid of me to think they actually paid attention to the world around them.
"Um, excuse me?" My thoughts are interrupted by the sounds of someone communicating. I look up, expecting it to be someone talking to someone else. Which just makes me much more surprised to realize it is not. The person who was supposedly communicating with me appears to be a boy.
Weird.
Most of the boys here just laugh at me.
There really is never much talking.
I send him a questioning look, hoping he takes it more as a 'get away from me' than a 'what?'
He doesn't.
"I was just curious if you wanted to be partners. Er- I guess it's not really much of a question, since it's a group project and you can't work alone, and there's no one else. Though, I guess Mr. Johnson wouldn't have much off a problem with you working alone. He doesn't really do much but just sit over there and grade shit. He probably wouldn't even notice. I guess you don't either. But, um, I would appreciate if we could be partners. Cause I do much better in group projects. I promise I won't make you do all of the work. God, I hate when people do that-"
I put up my hand to silence his rambling, nodding in response to his question. He looks confused, so I motion over to the chair next to me.
Luckily, this time, he gets the message.
The moment he sits down, he starts rambling again. About the project, which I have now been informed will require us actually communicating. Daily.
God, what have I gotten myself into.