creative writing 6

The one who notices

 I sometimes wonder if im the only one listening or paying attention. I turned and looked over at everyone else. The girl behind me, Kylie, stared blankly ahead, brushing her long straight hair aside. The boy behind her, Michael, played around with his pen, accidentally making it fly up to the ceiling, where it stayed, stuck. He quickly looked down and acted like he was writing notes. The guy next to him, Kurt, chuckled and rolled his eyes toward Melissa, who was staring at him the whole time. She blushed and quickly looked up ahead. The guy next to me, Brian, started laughing out loud for no particular reason. He would do that just to see what everyone else would do. Of course everyone else started to laugh. Everyone in high school always did what the popular people did. I shook my head and looked over at the girl at my right. She was the one I really didn’t understand. With Kylie, she tried her best to be the most gorgeous girl in the world. But in reality her father weighed her all the time and if she went even one pound over 95 pounds, he’d smack her and call her ugly. With Michael, he was always trying to be the class clown. The reason is because he wants to be noticed. Kurt was always trying to act cool, but in reality he always tried to make Melissa’s life better. And Melissa thought he would never notice her because she was the class nerd, when she actually was the most talented ballet dancer anyone has ever seen. Brian had the perfect life. Nothing made him sad or angry really. He was societies golden boy. But, Brittany? She was a complete mystery to me. I tried to figure her out by asking people or by looking her up, but she was so… plain. Boring. Annoying. I frowned. Not annoying for other people, she was very silent. But, annoying because she was a complete mystery. There was nothing that was typical or surprising or sad about her! I then remember a line from a poem by e.e.Cummins.

 The weak noise of her eyes easily files my impatience to an edge…

 I thought about it and decided it fitted her. I looked around at all of them. They all laughed and chuckled awkwardly, looking at everyone else with a questioning eye. What are we laughing about? They all seemed to ask each other, but none of them dared to ask. I looked up at our teacher, Mr. Noshing he stared ahead, with a bored look in his eyes, blabbering on about how and why Lincoln was assassinated. Him and I both knew why he wasn’t at the bar drinking his shame and sorrow away. And why he wasn’t going to just walk out. Because he didn’t have any money. And because he had nothing to look forward to when he got home. He had no wife. No children. And his family was ashamed of him. So what did he have to live for? I looked at him and felt very sad. I sighed and shrugged. Oh well. Who cares if I’m the only one who notices these things? It’s not like anyone will ever notice the girl in the front row who always does weird things, right?