Insanity Stains Red

one

The sun was distracting me. Not that I wouldn’t have found numerous other things distracting anyway; there’s not much that isn’t distracting in politics class. But the sun, I just couldn’t stop thinking about it. There were windows covering one whole wall of the classroom, and from my seat I could easily see outside. The birds didn’t help of course, but then those annoyingly cheerful creatures seemed to delight in taunting even the most cheerful of students stuck inside on a day like this, and I was far from cheery.

A noise drew my attention briefly back to the front of the room; the teacher clearing his throat. Mr Jenkins was watching me with a disapproving look. I cocked my head on the side and raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. ‘I wonder what that look was for? It doesn’t look as if he likes you much.’ Ah, there was that little voice in my head. Or voices, I should say. The echoing as they talked made me think there was more than one, though it was hard to tell sometimes. The voices had been quiet for so long that I was beginning to wonder if they hadn’t deserted me. But no, they were still there, and I found their presence comforting. After all, I had known them as long as I could remember.

 The voices had a point, however. That look hadn’t exactly been a friendly one. It certainly wasn’t the worst look I had gotten either, and it wasn’t as if there was anything I could do about it. I shrugged it off and resumed tracing the desk with my finger, they sun warm on my face, even as I hid behind my curtain of dark hair. ‘Well, dark colours are said to attract heat-’ Shush you! What a useless bit of information that is. How is that supposed to help me with anything? I’m trying to learn here! ‘Liar’. I smirked to myself, ah how the voices amused me.

 “Now class, tell me. Who do you think was our greatest president to date, and why?”

 The students stared at the teacher blankly for a few moments. It seemed that I was not the only one distracted today, just the only one that merited strange looks, apparently. ‘Maybe he knows something you don’t?’ Or, maybe he knows something I do. ‘Well yes, that would definitely explain the looks. But not why there aren’t cops swarming you at this very second, dumb-ass.’ If it were possible to glare at your subconscious, that’s what I’d be doing right now. It had made sense in my head… until my head had called me an idiot. Um, let’s just move on, shall we?

 “George Bush!” Came the cry from somewhere near the front of the class, no doubt from one of the teachers pets – they always sat as close to the front as possible. I swear I’d even seen one subtly shuffle her desk even further forward, once. Creepy, I tell you. I swung my gaze briefly around the room, liking my view just fine from the second row from the back. As if anyone wants to learn politics, anyway.

 “Very good, Rachel” said Mr Jenkins, practically purring at his star pupil. “And can you tell me why-”

 “-Hitler!” The class cracked up into fits of laughter at the shout that came from the very back of the room – No, it wasn’t me that said it. Fredrick considered himself the class clown; unfortunately, many people agreed. I mostly just knew him to be a bully.

“Hitler was German, moron!”

 “And he definitely wasn’t a president!”

“He was a great conqueror!”

“He was a murderer!”

“Oh shut up! You only don’t like him ‘cause you’re Jewis-”

“ENOUGH!”

Well, the class went silent at that. I personally had lost track of where all the voices had come from, having been at least four people yelling back and forth. Though, that last racial stint had of course, been Fredrick. See? I told you he was a bully. ‘What if we, you know?’ No. Father would kill us if we did that. Leave it be; he’ll get his.