I feel like an airhead, a cheerful bloated balloon dancing in the sea of skies, tangling with the rays of the sun that paint the surface of endless blue.
The bell for my last class rings. I am startled out of my habitual reveries, by the high pitch shrill of the bell. I slowly get up, and even more leisurely start packing my things. Walking out of the classroom with an apathetic, lazy stride I gradually make my way to the bathroom, slow enough that it gives my gut time to contract in anger and possibly even anxiety as I think about my brooding detention hours. Entering the bathroom, I lock the main doors, walk to the last stall and roll a joint. Lighting it, I soon take a hit, giving my body time to rid itself of its nervous tension, I sigh as I feel the ties of my muscles gradually unravel until all my exsistence consists of loose limbs and relaxation. No mind, no conscience, no anxiety: I feel like an airhead, a cheerful bloated balloon dancing in the sea of skies, tangling with the rays of the sun that paint the surface of endless blue.
By the time I manage to leave the bathroom, the hallways are empty and silent, like a white blank cave of nothing. Oh god, I'm so numb. I walk around the hallways, sluggishly, looking for the classroom where detention is being held, trying to recall, trying to recall where it is, where it was, last time, when was last time? I stay still, scracthing at the inner walls of my skull to remember where the class room was, I look up, and start giggling. Convinient, I think as I walk into the classroom smiling like an idiot, giggling like a child, pure convinience. It's like fate, ha if there were such a thing, why is it like that? Why does one try to find things and doesn't succeed until they stop? Then thing just appears out of nowhere, like it was waiting for one to stop. Maybe I'm just high, ha, I chuckle as I make my way to the far end of the classroom, sitting at the last desk one the corner, maybe I'm just highhh. My mind is so fuzzy, this feeling, it's so hard to explain yet, so easy to understand, why is that? It feels like my brain is snuggled up against dozens of fuzzy cotton balls as it snoozes happily away, bathed in rich, warm sunlight that pulls at my brain's little heart strings, like a vacation in paradise, like serenity. Yes this, this is serenity.
I willingly let my eyes close, not bothering to observe what other poor fuckers made it to detention, and fall asleep....
I'm walking...there's fog everywhere. There's fog everywhere, thick like a smoldering, blanket that compresses my skin in uncomfortable ways. I can't see where I'm going but yet I continue to walk, to walk into the endless gray, having no control over my body's movements, no control over my own legs. I keep walking, unable to feel my legs, unable to feel my heart beat, incapable of sight, incapable of thought, cannot feel anything but the fog. As I walk farther into the black sea I notice a smudge of green up ahead, it's so blurry to concieve what it actually is, but it resembles an accident, like a smuge of bright green paint that doesn't fit amongst the dark, cold colors, in a painting. It looks out of place, alone amongst all that fog. Getting nearer, I soon realize that the green smudge is in fact, a tree, an ordinary apple tree. Yet as I get closer, about to touch it, I feel waves of fog wrap around my body, pulling me down with them, deep down, into the cold palpable gray that chokes my throat, and I allow myself to be drowned. Black, behind my eyelids all is black, debating wether or not I should open my eyes or let the dark eat them away, I am left with the knowledge that I'm laying on a cold, hard surface. Uncomfortable, I open my eyes, better to look where I am. Opening my eyes, I find myself staring at the endless blue of a sky, relief drips into me and I let myself smile, no fog, no dark. I hear the crash of waves, and the ground I am laying is of wood, shiny and scarred. I'm in a boat, listening to the sound of seagulls laughing I gradually pick myself up from the ground. I walk around, inspecting...and as I walk to the edge of the boat I am filled with astonishment, and fright? The sea is blood red, but it isn't a sea because all it is, is sand. Hot, red sand that pushes the boat into motion, how? I feel sick, not knowing why, and I run to the middle of the boat, why does it bother me so much? I notice a presence behind me, and it's a dark figure conducting the ship, I walk closer: pale skin, hazel eyes, leather jacket. I gasp, my eyes wide from shock for some reason unbeknowst to me. He smirks at me smugly, and says " See you around."
My eyes flash open in panic, I feel so unsettled, violated in fact, I look around the class and notice every one is gone, almost everyone, I see a figure from my peripheal vision, I turn to look, and groan in despair.
"It's you." I accuse, he stares at me with his eyes, making my skin crawl. I can't believe I just said that.
"Were you staring at me while I slept?" I snap out, shit, I wasn't thinking, that sounds stupid, oh god, stop. He continues to look at me, and once again, I feel very violated.
"No. Actually, I was going to wake you up." He replies, that rough velvet voice, smooth and composed, doing nothing to calm my nerves, which are even greater now that I feel like an ass.
"Oh..." Is my intellegent reply, then "Sorry." I say in a sheepish voice,he smiles, one side of his lip curving higher than the other and casually replies, " My name's Gerard."
"Ok.." I reply akwardly not trusting myself with saying any other words.
"Just in case you were wondering, which I know you were." He deadpans, air rushes out of my lungs and I panic, fuck not good, this is quite intimidating.
I cough awkwardly and avert my gaze towards the door, hoping to flee, but that would be idiotic, why am I nervous? This guy is so fucking creepy. " I'm Frank.." I say, seeing as there's not much choice I have now. I start to pack my things and notice this guy, Gerard, walking out towards the door, wondering why he waited, -was that waiting?- I gradually make my way towards the exit. When I leave the class room he is right outside, waiting, for me? I smile at him awkwardly but seeing as the look on his face, I can tell it looked more like a grimace more than anything. I walk in a slow pace, trying to prove that I'm calm and not so nervous at all. He walks next to me, stretching his -not so- long legs in an eloquent stride, making me feel very, weird, like shit to put it in words. When I -we- walk out of the school he pulls out a box of cigarettes and takes one out for himself, he then looks at me and offers, I take it, of course I do it's free.
"Got a light?" He asks. Oh, oh, I see he doesn't have one, no wonder he waited, funny, that guy. I nod my head, handing him the lighter after I've finished lighting my cig. I unintentionally stare at him lighting his cig, buring the tip, and hollowing his cheeks to keep the heat growing, making his cheekbones protrude as the cherry glows with new life. He blows out, his lips a circle as smoke comes out, fogging his face with grey smog for a mere second. He looks dangerous, I note. Then he hands me my lighter and smiles at me, the trace of danger gone but still lurking at the edges of my mind. I cough again.
" So, you never carry a lighter around then?" I ask, genuinely curious. He huffs out a laugh, smoke curling from his lips.
" I do. I just lose them, the ones I buy are small, hard to keep track of where I put them." He smiles.
" Maybe you just have a bad memory, or maybe you just need to be tidy." I reply, great just sound like a goddamned granny Frank. He laughs again, eyes bright with life, I catch myself staring again, shit.
"Maybe" He muses, "Then again, I do enjoy watching which strangers let me bum a light. Call it a social experiment if you will."
I chuckle amused, " Well then I hope I didn't dissapoint."
"You didn't." He replies, smiling. He throws his shrunken cig to the ground and stomps it with his foot, killing the light.
" See you around, Frank." He says, smirking, then he walks down the school's steps, away from me, towards salvation, and I am left staring at his descending figure.
I finish my cig, and make my way towards home. Eery, the way he said it this time, with my name, it makes it sound very eery, promising even. I get chills. When I make it home, all I can think about are the goosebumps gracing my flesh. And at night, when I'm trying to beckon sleep, I hear the echos of his voice saying my name with a leering promise. And in my slumber, I dream about his name, about how it makes me feel like im in rooting danger, and it resonates on the walls of my mind with a brooding beat, waiting, promising something deadly. Gerard.
Thanks for reading I hope you guys enjoyed it. Please R&R