Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Vacant and Stained

Part 3: You're Never Gonna Fit In Much, Kid

by adrenalineguts 0 reviews

People were so fucking heartless; why would they say things about someone they don’t know?

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: R - Genres: Drama,Romance - Characters: Gerard Way - Warnings: [!] - Published: 2012-09-09 - Updated: 2012-09-17 - 2358 words

Part 3: You’re Never Gonna Fit in Much, Kid

The pounding rain had woken me up. It always rained in October, so it was nothing new; although I had always found it comforting. I opened my eyes slowly, meeting the dark purple walls and black ceiling. I yawned, and stretched out my arm muscles as I brushed them against the sheets. I craned my head to the side where my window was, seeing dark rain clouds and rain drops obscure the sky.

I got out of bed slowly, and walked up to the calendar that was pinned on my wall. October 11, Monday; otherwise known as my first day of school. I sighed, running a hand through my messy hair. I padded barefoot to the bathroom, and grabbed a fluffy towel. I turned the shower on and stripped out of my clothing. I stepped in, and shivered as the hot water hit my back. After I showered I wrapped myself up in the towel, and returned to my room.

I looked through my closet, pulling out some of the clothes I had bought recently. It consisted of black skinny jeans, my new Misfits t-shirt, an oversized black hoodie, and some battered black converse. I dried and straightened my hair, brushing it out and having my fringe slightly cover the top of my eyes.

I looked through my backpack to make sure I had all of my school supplies, and then I realized something. My notebook was gone, the one I use as my “voice”. I lost it at the mall…no. I didn’t lose it. It was stolen! The black-haired boy at the mall took it. Great, now I need another one. I went over to my desk and pulled out the drawers, and found a spare notebook; I also grabbed a spare pen and stuck it on the spine.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder, and gripped my notebook, and went down the stairs. My brother and sister were eating breakfast as my father was packing their lunches. My father turned to look at me and smiled.

“Ready for school?” He asked. I nodded. “Alright, then pack up, kids, and let’s go.”
“Okay!” Cassie said, and she and Jack handed their bowls to my dad so he could put them in the dishwasher.

We all got in the Lexus, and he backed out of the driveway and drove down the road. I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, watching the droplets of rain collect together and run down. The thought of going to a new school was unsettling, especially since it’s going to be a public school. I’ve been going to a private school for as long as I could remember, and never had many friends; so was this going to be the same thing all over again? Perhaps; I didn’t really care for friends anyhow. It’s not like I’ll ever make any, and I have my father, Jack, and Cassie. They’re all I really need.

Before I knew it, my father pulled up to the school parking lot. Looking outside, I saw high school students shielding themselves from the falling rain and hiding under roofs or trees. Some were in groups, some were by themselves. There were so many cliques, more than at my old school. I noticed a group of girls and guys, all dressed in expensive-looking clothes and sport jackets.

Probably the jocks and preps, I thought.

The car came to a stop, and I suddenly felt sick. I took a deep breath and looked at my dad who looked right back.

“Now, have a good day alright?” He said. “Go to the main office so you can get your schedule and map. I’ll pick you up later afterschool.”

I nodded, and kissed him and the twins goodbye. I got out of the car, and pulled my hoodie over my head from the light rain. I watched the car drive away, and sighed, then turned to look at my new school. I walked towards the entrance, stepping into little puddles and watching them splash in different directions. I looked at the top of the school which bore big bold words: Belleville High School. The groups started staring at me as I walked up the concrete steps, and I suddenly felt self conscious. I clutched my notebook to my chest tightly, and entered through the doors where other teenagers were bustling in the halls. Some stared at me, and whispered. They probably thought I was some emo creep with the black hair, dark clothes, and hood up.

The first thing I had to do was get my schedule, so I had to get to the main office. Fortunately it was the first door on my left, and I entered to see a woman in her mid-fifties with kind eyes. I walked up to her desk, and shyly tapped it. She looked up and smiled.

“May I help you?” She asked.

I nodded, taking my notebook and writing, I’m new to this school, and I was wondering if I can have my schedule.

“Oh…yes, of course!” She said. “Name?”

Willow Adams, I wrote.

She nodded and typed away on her computer, then rolled on her chair over to the printer where she retrieved to pieces of paper. Rolling back she handed them to me.

“This one,” She pointed to the first sheet. “Is your schedule. It also has your locker number and combination.” Then she pointed to the second piece. “This is a school map, so you won’t get lost. Now if you have any questions or need help, don’t hesitate to come back here. Have a nice day!”

I smiled and wrote, Thank you.

I looked over my schedule as I left the main office. First period, Government; second period, Creative Writing; third period, Study Hall; fourth period, Lunch; fifth period, Trigonometry; sixth period, Biology Honors; seventh period, Advanced Art. I got locker number 500, the combination being 2, 26, and 20.

The bell had rung, and all of the students that had occupied the halls hurried to their first period classes. Soon, I was all alone in the empty hallway. I shifted the arm my backpack was on, and used the map to find my locker. I was already five minutes late, but the teachers would probably pardon me for being new.

I was finally able to find my locker, a pasty gray with the small silver plate that bore the locker number. I turned and twisted the lock as the dial clicked, then pulled on it, but it wouldn’t give. I tugged on it a few more times, but it still wouldn’t budge. I huffed, and tried to tug it with both hands, but I only fell onto the floor. Agitated, I got up and kicked it, and to my luck, it popped open.

Oh, I thought. Well, that did it.

I opened up my backpack to put all my notebooks and binders inside and on the shelves. I shoved my backpack in, and shoved my map and schedule in my hoodie pocket, grabbing the things I needed for my second period class. Closing it, I turned down the hallway with my stuff tucked under one arm and looked at my map. I turned down corridors, and walked up the stairs only to go down a few more hallways until I stopped in front of a door.

I took a few deep breaths, and put my hand on the handle ready to open it. But then something stopped me, and I started to get a little nervous. God, this is the first time I will ever be learning in a public school. What if I make a fool of myself as I walk in? I could walk in and trip on a leg chair and fall flat onto my face! I’ll be a laughing stock. But then again, no one bothered to talk or resort to me. So what does it matter…?

Stop, I thought. You’re only stalling, so just go in and get it over with!

My mind was right. I took one last deep breath, and opened the door. All eyes looked up, and my muscles went ridged. The teacher looked, and smiled at me. She had brown hair and warm brown eyes, and looked like she was in her mid-thirties.

“Hello,” She said, and got up. “You must be the new student.”

I nodded, and my unease was getting a little worse.

“Well, would you like to introduce yourself?” She asked. “How about your name?”

I nodded, and wrote on my notebook, Willow Adams.

Some of the people gave me weird looks since I didn’t even attempt to speak. However, the teacher only smiled. She extended her hand, and said, “Well, welcome to Belleville High, Willow. I’m Ms. Ross.”

I nodded, taking her hand. “You can go sit beside that young man over there.” She pointed to a boy with black hair and had his head against his desk. By the slow rise and fall of his shoulders, I guessed that he was sleeping.

I nodded again, and walked towards the back. I pulled back the desk chair and it squeaked against the linoleum floor, and I sat down. I looked around hesitantly, and noticed a few people staring or whispering. Is this what really happens to new kids? My head started to pound, and I began to feel sick. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea; I should’ve asked my father to let me stay home. Could this possibly be as bad as my old private school?

I heard someone groan a little, and I turned to my right to see the black haired boy move a little. He raised his head and yawned. It felt like someone punched me in the brain, a memory trying to make its way back into my system. I knew this boy, with his black hair and hazel eyes. It was him. The one from the mall, the one who took my notebook! That boy. He turned to look at me, and after a few seconds his eyes widened. I looked away, hiding my face and reddening cheeks with my hair.

Time passed, and all I wanted to do was run out. I could feel a pair of eyes bore into my side, like a hot iron rod pressed to my skin. I already knew who was staring at me. I wish he stopped; I didn’t see why he needed to. It made me feel small, like I was a mouse as he just towered over me. The boy who stole my notebook just wouldn’t stop staring at me.

Soon the bell rang, and I gathered my things quickly as everyone headed for the door. The black haired boy left very quickly, and I frowned. I stood up from my seat and headed for the door, but then Ms. Ross called out, “Willow, can I speak to you for a minute?”

I walked to her desk and nodded.

“You don’t talk, do you?” She asked, her face bearing concern.

I shook my head. “I see…” She said. “Your other teachers won’t be so nice about this.”

I bit my lip; I hadn’t thought about that. But Ms. Ross had a thoughtful expression about it.

“I’ll accept it, though,” She smiled, causing me to grin. She took out a sticky note and wrote something in curvy hand writing, and handed it to me. “Here’s a note for you to show to your teachers.”

I took it and nodded in thanks. “Have a good rest of the day, Willow.”

I left the classroom and headed over to my next class. I showed the teacher the note, and they just mumbled and told me to sit down. The same thing happened class after class; the teachers were all rude, as the students just stared and whispered. Every passing minute made me feel even more helpless and miserable.

Finally, the bell signaled for lunch. I left and used the map to help me find the cafeteria. It felt like my body was made of lead. Lunch was known for being pure hell, full of cliques who could make you feel so small. I appeared in front of the doors, and my breath got caught in my throat.

Just go in, I thought to myself. What’s stopping you?

Everything, I answered my thought.

I sighed, and walked in. I could feel eyes on me as I wound my way around the tables. Glancing around I could see a group of girls in pink shirts and short skirts look at me and smirk, some whispering to each other and giggling. All I could hear were the loud whispers of some of the students, making me cringe inwardly.

“She’s new, right?”

“Jeez, what a freak!”

“She doesn’t even talk; maybe she’s retarded or something.”

“Did you look at her clothes? All black; what a loser!”

“Wow, another emo freak to contaminate our bubbles just like that Jared guy and his friends.”

My eyes burned. People were so fucking heartless; why would they say things about someone they don’t know? I swallowed the lump that built into my throat, and decided to walk outside where some students ate lunch.

The breeze ruffled my hair, and the rain had stopped. Clouds just hung around the sky, looking as if they were threatening to pour again. There was a vacant tree by the side of the building that overlooked everything. I walked over to it, and plopped down. I rested my head against the damp bark, sighing. All I wanted was to just disappear from all this.

Mom, I thought as I looked up at the sky. I wish you were here.

Taking my notebook, I wrote down simple phrases. All were depressing, matching the emotions I had. One stood out the most, gathering tears in my eyes. Fuck that little phrase.

You’re never gonna fit in much, kid.
Sign up to rate and review this story