No one notices me. I drift through the halls, through my classes, through the streets. People look at me, but don't LOOK at me. They can't see me. My teachers can't see me. My parents can't see me.
Sometimes I can't even see me.
There really is no reason for me to have an alarm clock. I'm always awake at night. My eyes are wide awake, and my body feels the need to walk, climb a tree, try to get some homework done. Or to just lay in bed, eyes open, staring at the bare white wall.
The alarm clock shuts up after I bang my fist on the snooze button. My eyes droop, and I go to sleep.
When I wake up, it's around 12:00. Dad's left for the bank, and Mom's at the hospital, saving someones life, no doubt.
Dad likes money. His greed is controlled, but he loves being so close to money. He's trying to prove to God he's not going to give in to temptation, no matter how close he gets to the money, the green, beautiful money, he isn't going to take it.
Mom prides herself on being one of the best doctors around here. She thinks she's done her good task, and needs to get a good thing to happen to her.
And it has. The house is worth more than me to them.
My eyes are still glued to the wall. That tiny little crack in the wall that no one has seen but me.
I remember how it got there too.
My mind empties, my nose is filled with the scent of smoke from cigarette, my hands pulsing in pain.
I stare at the wall until I work up enough energy to get up, pulling myself off of the bed, walking to the the bathroom. My own bathroom. Mom had made a big deal about it, as if it mattered.
Water splashes on my eyes and face, on my body. My eyes stare at it in the mirror across from the shower.
I wish I could shed it, just take it off, and walk away. Just leave it behind.
I switch the boiling hot water to ice cold, then back again.
My skin was red, part of it on fire, the other cold.
I stepped out of the shower, my body dripping on the white tile floor.
The reflection seemed empty.
I felt empty.
Since I'd slept in I had to walk to school, which I wouldn't mind if it wasn't so hot. My shoulder was strained and my legs wanted to give out, but I kept going.
A car drove by.
I wondered what it would be like to get hit by one.
I made it in time to have lunch.
Mac and Cheese that looked like throw up and a apple as hard as a rock.
I tossed the mac and cheese and bit into the apple. My books were in my arms and I was out of the cafeteria before he came in.
Skipped on Study Hall, he's in there.
I hurried out, my shoes not making a sound on the hard floor as I sped to the bathroom.
The bathroom usually smelled like apples, but today it was smoky. The room reassured me, and I felt a little more relaxed. The light green tile floor, dark red stalls, and white counters. All in the same place before, a constant, my sanctuary.
For some odd reason, I think I loved this bathroom.
One of the red stalls flew open, revealing and girl dressed in black, smoking a cigarette.
Her hair was dyed black, a little red streak going threw it. Red lips not marking the cigarette what so ever. Long lashes that hung lazy over her baby blues.
She was taller than me, but I felt angry. "What the hell are you doing in my bathroom?!"
One plucked black eyebrow raised. "Your, bathroom? Got your name on it?"
My feet stomped to the first stall, my favorite. I waved her over, books on one hip and hand holding it open, pointing to the wall.
She laughed. "Kim?" Eyes looked me up and down. "Well sorry Kim, but no one barely goes to this bathroom, and I needed a smoke." Smoke was blew into my face, filling my nose, and everything went black.
A distant smacking on my cheek woke me up.
"Hey, come on, come on chicky." My cheeks burned, my hands coming up naturally to fend off the beating my face was taking. "Jeez, thank whoever the hell is up there. Tought I was going to have to leave for help."
The cigarette was on the floor, forgotten. My back was cold. Oh, I'm on the floor.
"Aw fuck, my cigarette." Her plump red lips turned pouty.
"Sorry," I got out, pushing myself up by my hands. My head didn't hurt, so I can asumme she caught me before I fell. No one has ever been in here with me before, and I suddenly realized that it was a little crowded under the sink.
Starting to slide out, my jacket was yanked on. "Where are you going? Stick around." She started to pull out another cigarette when I shook my head. "You allergic?"
"Yeah, I'm allergic," I said straight faced. Avoiding smokers is a hobby of mine, due to the sick feeling that spreads from my stomach that pollutes my mind, pulling me to the ground in a dark pool of dark memories.
Blinking, I came back to the world to see her staring at me, cigarette and lighter gone. Huh.
"Well." Her hands slapped on her net tight knees, then rubbed. "What brings you to the haunted bathroom?"
I snorted. "Haunted? The only thing that comes in here is me." Sliding back under the sink, I felt a flicker of happiness that came out of no where.
"But a few girls said, that they've seen shadows, and heard a girl crying . . . ?" This statement started a long silence.
"Yeah, that's me, but it's not like you didn't already now that." No one could scrape my eyes from the ceiling of the sink while I was filled with this humilitation.
She changed the subject. "I'm a little new here. You?"
Shaking my head, I took my eyes off of the ceiling. "No, but people think I'm new. Might as well be new. Lived in this hell hole for six years, but no one even knows I'm there."
A click made my eyes shoot to her, then caught in the dancing flame. "How about we leave a little early, then?" A slow grin spread across her face, and I found my own mimicking hers.