Her and Him--Them? (Not a love story)

Chapter 2: Him

        I woke up. So what? Every day is the same. Nothing ever gets better or worse. Life is a repetitive circle of nothing and everything that’ll be the same forever. I’d rather just sleep. But, I woke up. Despite prayers and promises, nothing ever changes.
        I sat up, glanced around at my sheets, and finally got up much later than I’m supposed to. Regardless, I ran out the door—I’ve recently given up trying to dress up in an acceptable way. It’s just sweatshirts and usually jeans now. Maybe black pants, depending. I don’t wear black makeup or dye/straighten my hair. I did grow it out a little bit, but only so it could fall in from of my eyes so I could avoid accidental eye contact with the teacher. Or even other students. I put more effort than I should into being antisocial.
        I blindly walked onto the bus. I didn’t even process everything going on. I could talk all about how the jumbled, meaningless chattering aggravated the static in my head, but I suppose there’s no real reason. Pointless specifics are what I’ve decided can’t slow me down. Well, I say that, but slowing me down from what? There’s nowhere I’m going.
        Enter school with no expression and, later, no memory of it. No clear memory. I had to go to ‘advanced classes’ because I was ‘smart’ and they would help me ‘go to a good college’. Yeah, because having all honors classes on my report card would help me go to a good college, and that overwhelming stress doesn’t really matter. At all. And I DO try, I really do, and even if I am as smart as they say, I suspect I’m not, I still trytrytry. Despite what they say. They say I don’t really care. That’s not it. I care so much, more than I should, and drive myself into the ground because I have no motivation to get anything done and panic anyway and try not to care, even decide I don’t, but it always gets me again. I can’t even keep the promises I make to myself.
        I pedaled along through class after class, trying to stay focused on taking notes, writing down assignments and filling out the busywork they threw at me. By the end of the day, anger flickered at the edge of my vision, though I kept it quiet. Anger, in general, is a useless emotion, especially when it’s directed towards school. Regardless, my anger was enflamed by the shouts following through the hall as I tried to leave.
        “Look, there he is again!”
        “Awww, look at how he’s hiding under that damn hoodie again!”
        “C’mon little guy, you hear us!”
        “Emo!”
        Whispers followed me too, though to their credit I could tell they were trying to keep quiet. I could hear them anyway though.
        “Do you think he cuts?”
        “’Course he does Cyp, I’ve even seen them…”
        “Wow, really? I mean… really? Where?”
        “I don’t know for sure. I’ve seen him go into the bathroom and stay there for suspiciously long amounts of time though…”
        Crap. I’ve been caught. True that I’ve hidden out in the bathroom, true I was unintentionally unconscious or lightheaded during some of them, but most of them were just a way to hide from the other people, or when I couldn’t handle going to class. Now that was something that happened obnoxiously often.
        I rushed out the door into the still slightly warm air. Winter was coming fast. I ran onto the bus, panicked suddenly that it might leave without me. As it turns out, I was worried over nothing once again. The bus started to leave minutes after I found an empty seat towards the back. I dissipated into the music, finally letting my mind quiet down and my ears be filled. It silenced me. The bus continued moving over concrete and gravel and asphalt. It disappeared.
        The trance I was in was thrown out the window the moment I noticed how close to home I was. I quickly grabbed my bag, scared of missing the stop and having to walk back. It’s a pretty long walk. I got up and walked off the bus and home. I ran upstairs to start homework as soon as I possibly could. I wanted to get started so I could finish as well. The quality was as decent as never, and that would be very low. As if I cared by that point. I threw it all into my bag and turned to the clock. 5:30 P.M. Oh. Quite late to be JUST finishing homework. I had that shivery feeling on mental and emotional tiredness and chose to watch a dumb video or two to try and get rid of it. It usually works.
        I ate dinner silently and left to go upstairs. I quickly showered, and just went to bed. I laid in the dark for a few minutes before finally closing my eyes.
        I hope I don’t dream…