skinny ghost

chapter 2 | the sorrows of school

everyone hates school. it's the staple of today's teenage society - hating school is the new trend.

i am part of that trend. school sucks. baring through hours of mindless droning on about equations that will never get us anywhere in life. not teaching things that are necessary in life like taxes, bills.

it makes me want to kill myself.

literally.

most of the time i doodle to pass time. did i mention i want to be an artist when i want to grow up? well, i do. i guess it's kind of stereotypical - the gay depressed hipster artist. but i can't help my love for art.

i wander about things like this when i go to class. my brain is a book and i'm writing a memoir.

my first class is English; A.K.A teaching me things i don't care about. i don't care about proper nouns and improper nouns. i don't care about onomatopoeia or alliterations. i don't care about proverbs or adverbs. all i care about is getting out. and if i have to get an A, i'll do it.

my next class is P.E. see, i like p.e. but not for the reason you think; during p,e, there's no time to think. there's no time for my head to think about how much i hate life. it's just constant instructions. run, walk, run, walk, breath breathe breathe, up down, up down. i don't like sweating thought. i also do not like changing. i don't have a necessarily bad body; i'm not fat. i'm rather skinny, in actuality. my legs aren't chicken legs. and i've heard people say my butts pretty nice for a guy. so that's nice, i think.

but it sucks that the only good thing i can think about myself is that my ass is big.

people tell me i have an attractive face. i don't believe them. my eyelashes are too long, they make me look like a girl. my nose is too big. my eyes are too big. i can't think anything positive about my face.

i'm too negative.

anyways, my second to last class is history; a.k.a learning about old dudes who ruined lived while also made lives. i hate history. it's boring. it's not useful to me. i'm not going to become a politician, i don't need to know what mistakes other people made.

and my final (and favorite) class is study hour a.k.a the "do anything you want to do" hour. see, my school isn't the best. it's an okay school, but the security sucks and it's easy as fuck to leave early.

and that's what i do. i leave early. i catch the bus and then walk the rest of the way home, where neither of my parents are home yet, and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling while my cat sleeps on my stomach. it's comfortable. it's the only time i don't have thoughts that make me want to die.

but today was different. because it was raining. and i couldn't walk home in the rain. and i hate walking in the rain. i was hoping by the time school ended i go home.

so i spent the next hour and a half sitting there, doodling random things in a notebook. stereotypical, once again. but hey, a notebook is a listener who can never tell.  unless someone finds it, which they won't.

in any case, the rain had yet to end. and, as my luck goes, my phone had died midway through the day. so no calling mom to come pick me up.

i ended up waiting by the student's parking lot for the rain to end. that's where most of the people who stayed after school both voluntarily and involuntarily hung. and i didn't want to be appear as a loner, even if i am one. but the rain refused to let up. so as the numbers of people there dwindled to one, my thoughts became loud. and i could feel the anxiety coming on. the shakiness. the hot feeling. i felt small, but big at the same time.

i wanted to die.

and then, a knight in shining armor came. i'm kidding. a knight in a rundown old chevy truck came.

i glanced up at the guy inside of the truck. he was obviously the same age as me. he was cute, i guess. it's weird how, despite an overwhelming anxiety attack, you can still have sexual attraction to people.

the guy looked out the window, and our eyes met briefly. it wasn't a very romantic moment. he rolled down the window, and then yelled/asked me if i needed a ride. and i did need one, so i said yes.

despite really not wanting to.

i got into the guy's truck. i could hear the psas about stranger danger ringing in my ears. but what was the worse thing that could happen? well, lots of things, actually. this was a bad idea.

but i went through with it. bad ideas were good. sometimes.

inside of the car it was warm. and the guy gave off an oddly comforting vibe. but that didn't meant i felt safe. i was still fairly close to the door, one hand on the handle.

the guy pulled out of the school. being in his car gave me a better view of his body. he had an extremely nice physique. he'd probably be a top. i wouldn't mind him topping me.

fuck hormones.

after sitting in silence for probably three red lights, he popped the question.

"so uh, you. where do you live?"

i knew this would've happened. but i mean, i had to tell him. i couldn't just not. "fourty eight sixty seven cedrics avenue"

"oh shit, really? i live close to there! can't believe i've never seen you. what's your name?"

i hope this guy doesn't try to become my friend. "daniel"

"daniel. nice. uh, my names gabriel. but most call me gabe."

"ok. nice to meet you." why was i even having a conversation with this guy? is it because hes hot? it's probably because hes hot.

stop being so shallow

"um, so. i'm surprised i haven't seen you around school."

"life works like that."

"yeah, i guess it does." awkward silence "so, uh, what type of music do you listen to?"

oh no. the music talk. i hate talking about music. "lo fi. i guess. obscure stuff"

"oh really? like who?"

please end this conversation "i don't know. people. i don't know"

you're an idiot

"that's cool, i guess."

why can't this car ride end?

after a long five minutes of silence, we arrived at the place i live in. i was about to get out when he said my name.

"uh, so you got a phone, right?"

"yeah..?"

"you seem cool, so um, want my number?"

shit. shit. shit. what do i do. i can't say no. that'd be rude.

you're a rude person, daniel.

"um, sure."

you won't text him at all

"cool! i'll just, uh, here." gabriel took out a paper that look like an admission slip for something and tore off a corner of it, then quickly scrawled out his number on it, then gave it to me. "just.. text me or call me any time, i guess." he smiled and then i got out.

and then the thoughts started pounding at my brain.

why didn't you smile back? why are you such a jerk? you won't even fucking text him or call him. you're a fucking dick. kill yourself, fucking do it.

and my routine started. get inside, go to my room, put on music, take off shirt and pants, get into bed, and think nothingness. think about the world, think about the insignificance of these feelings.

sometimes it works.