The Road to Nowhere

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

It's entertaining to me that a place I'd once called home had faded into a black hole. I had shut myself out of society, yet I wasn't lonely. The constant pestering presence of preppy, obnoxious girls that don't have a care in the world--I'll pass thanks.

These walls had once been my home; they were once filled with posters tacked up by me, the President in any club that was deemed important. But I had become a ghost, disappeared into thin air, no trace left behind. These spots were filled with new people that were just as preppy and popular as I was, maybe even more so.

The thing that got me the most, was that nothing waits for you. The world, society, they keep right on going once you've fallen. No one stops to notice you, no one cares enough to notice you. They just all rush around, everything else a blur. You aren't significant enough for their time to be taken up and wasted.

There are reasons I can't tell people these things. I enjoy being invisible. So many people find that it's hard to just disappear in a high school where gossip never stops, but I guess it did take me a while to get there. First, people had to get over the fact that he was gone. It was a newsflash to us all; a total plot twist. It was a constant reminder to be at school and hear his name in the buzz in the hallways. People started to look at me like I was a freak--a freak from a freakshow family. They started to conspire against me, jokingly planning what I would do next, as if my life had become a Reality TV show.

Things were getting so bad with the rumors that started to go around that administration finally had to step in and end it. But just because they stepped in, didn’t mean that anything changed. Just because I wasn't hearing about him doesn't mean that the nasty looks and disgusted faces weren't just as bad.

At first, I didn't cope well with his death at all. Hearing his name constantly in the hallways just ate at me. But when people started with rumors, well I lost my temper.

*flashback*

"Look at the freakshow family!" a blonde haired girl squealed. "I wonder if she's going to end up dead like her brother or in the circus with the rest of the freaks!" The taunting was foolish really. The remarks weren't well thought up at all, yet somehow, it wasn't her unintelligence that bothered me. 

"Want to say that to my face? Or are you the cowardly bitch who says it behind my back?" This side of me, this side of aggression, was never one that he had liked. He and my dad got into lengthy arguments about me learning how to fist fight. I argued I need to be able to protect myself, but he promised that he would always be there for me. He promised me that I would never have to resort to violence. But now he's gone and someone has to pay. Unfortunately, this girl was the lucky winner.

She just laughed at me, brushing me off and turning around, going back into her little world where I fell into the category of a blur. The good thing about being a blur, is that it isn't seen clearly. It's always misunderstood, because no one takes the time to perceive it for what it really is.

And when my fist connected with her face, I wasn't the only one who gasped. It didn't matter how much I disapproved of my actions, because all I was focused on was the girl that was now lying on the floor. The girl that I had knocked onto the floor. The girl that I was punching mercilessly. The girl who's blood was on my hands. The hands that were shaking violently. The hands that belonged to a girl, scared and hurt, rebelling against the world.

*end of flashback*

          Everyone always tells you, “Life’s hard.” It’s not that it’s a false statement, it’s just so underplayed. There are some people out there that have a harder time dealing with their problems than others. Stating facts about life doesn’t make it any easier for anyone.