Loner

I had been walking those empty halls for five years. Making momentary glances at the empty faces that dwelled within them. Those false smiles, and fake personalities shined through clearer than the sun’s glare on a hot summer’s day. Making my way through the waves of useless bodies attempting to find my locker was not an easily accomplished task.

However after a long period of time I was able to slip from the crowd. Arriving at the lonely, dimly lit hallway that held my school supplies. As I slowly made my way to locker 669 my shoes kinda squeaked on the floor. As I reach my locker I hear the slow, monotone ticks of the locking mechanism as I enter my combination and the locker slowly opened. It exposed all my black folders, text books, and my mask. I suffer from social anxiety, and body issues, so my mask is like a friend.

As I noticed the pace of everyone around me increase I knew the bell was about to ring so I grabbed my English folder, put my mask on and headed off. My locker was dented and the paint wasn’t very well-kept, not to mention “DIE EMO DIE” was painted on it with red paint. Apparently the school had more troubles than to help me with the bullying that I have to go through. The cold air blows through the hallway, giving me a sudden chill down my spine. Finally I made my way to English and found my seat.

I was put in the back left corner of the room by the heater, while I was isolated from the other students on cold days like today I appreciated my seating. Apparently according to the school guidance counselor it’s in everyone’s best interest that I be separated from the rest of the students.

On what grounds? I was never sure, all I knew is that I was told to stay away from the other students. Mr. Schmidt rose from his old worn down leather chair, his Loafers clicking across the marble floor as he made his way to the podium in the center of the room.

“Alright class, I want you to pass your homework up to the front and give it to me.”

The classes voices suddenly came to a screeching halt as Mr. Schmidt’s gaze was set upon them. He then let out a long sigh and looked out the window near my desk.

“I assume no one has even done the assignment. If you have raise your hand.”

I looked away as I unknowingly raised my hand and his eyes were set onto me.

“Ah Zoe I can always count on you, hand me your assignment.”

Knowing my place in the food chain I obliged slowly making my way up to his podium. I began to hand him the assignment when his expression suddenly changed.

“Now Zoe, I’d like for you to read the assignment.”

I began to blush but nodded in agreement. I read my poem and the whole class stared at me with cold gazes, peering into my very being.

I instantly blushed and looked away. But they began to laugh, the laughs of an army of emotionless soldiers. I instantly ran from the classroom and headed towards my
car. I hopped into the driver’s seat and started it. It was a 67 mustang with old rims, seats were a little worn down but it was better than nothing.

I began my drive home, on the lonely foggy roads of my home town, my engine barely out weighing the sounds of my crying. I wiped away the tears from my eyes as I began to make the first turn towards the center of town just then I lost control and the car tipped onto its right side the car slid along the lonely road before finally rolling into a ditch near the woods, and everything went black.

I woke up to the sound of sirens fast approaching my location, and I attempted to move and was stopped. I looked down at my side where all of my pain was coming from. And I saw it, a piece of the car door had been driven into my side, it had been pushed through the seat locking me in place blood dripping from my mouth.

My vision hazed as snow began to fall, dropping on my head sending chills down my spine. I needed to get out, I tried to pull the metal but as soon as I did blood came pouring from my mouth, dropping onto my crimson hoodie.

I tried once more gathering what little strength I had pulling it from my stomach blood pooling in what was left of the car seat. I then pushed open the door and took my first steps instantly falling.

After I regained my footing I began my journey to freedom from judgement, and probably my own death. After about five minutes I passed out from exhaustion, falling into the snow. “Zoe!” A familiar voice said as it came close. “Don’t worry, I can fix this.” The voice was closer now as if I was being held.