The Dark Side - Chris Motionless

Thats Not My Name

*Samantha's POV*
The first class bell rang. The ringing was deafeningly loud and torturously annoying. I didn't want to be here, and I wouldn't if it weren't for my parents. Get a good education, they would nag me. Really, I wanted to be an artist but they didn't think I'd get an actual job being an artist, so they dragged me here and told me to be normal for once.

I shoved my headphones in my ear and briskly jogged to my first period class; music appreciation. I figured the teacher wouldn't yell at me for listening to music on my phone in a music appreciation class. Well I hope they wouldn't. I slammed into the thick wood door, pushing into the metal bar with my body to open the door.

"Well, look who showed up." The teacher tsked at me disapprovingly. I avoided eye contact and walked shamefully to an empty desk in the back.

"Sorry, ma'am." I opened an empty binder and waited for the teacher to start lecturing.

"And take those headphones out, this may be music appreciation but we have learning to do."

"Sorry, ma'am." I repeated, a little annoyed at the public humiliation. A few girls in the front giggled and I earned a few glances from some guys. A slide flicked onto the large overhead board at the front of the classroom and we began scribbling down a few words like: 'genres- rock, classic, hip-hop..." And a bunch more music genres,

"Okay, now turn to the person next to you and discuss the genres and their stereotypes." I sighed and rolled my head reluctantly to the right and layer my eyes upon a tall, pale boy with longish dark hair on one side and a black hoodie pulled lazily over his head. Spiked and other bracelets lined his wrists and piercings skewered his lips. He glanced at me then back at his papers. Was he shy? I kind of was too so we sat in silence until the teacher walked to our sides. "C'mon, Chris, don't make me force you to move your desks closer to eachother." He rolled his eyes and finally looked at me.

"Chris." I murmured to myself, a little too loudly because he heard me and looked at me oddly. "Sorry, that was my old dogs name."

"Well I'm glad I remind you of a dead dog." He sarcastically whispered to himself in a shy way. He looked disappointed in a way.

"No that's not what I meant..." I stumbled and sighed when I realized there was no way I could make that any better. "So the genres..." I sighed an changed the subject, avoiding looking at him on purpose. He leaned his head back against the back of the large classroom's walls, knocking his hood off. I noticed that half of his head was shaved slightly (but growing back) and dyed a bright purple. He bit his lip and Licked over his many lip piercings.

"What music genre do you like?" I tried to break the awkward silence.

"Rock and metal." His voice was quiet.

"Oh, the screaming kind." I said to myself.

"No, the meaningful kind." He spoke up, anger and determination flaring in his eyes. " and if you're too ignorant to hear the meaning than go fuck yourself." He shoved the desk away from him, causing a big scraping noise and gaining everyone's attention, the stormed our of the auditorium-like class room.

"Chris Cerulli!" The teacher called after him.

"That's not my name! Stop calling me that!" He growled and threw a book at her then stormed off again. The whole class, including myself, was in utter shock and didn't know what to do.