It's Not Easy (NaNoWriMo!)

Christmas?

Christmas?

No one likes teachers, homework, desks that are too small, so in short; no one likes school.

Especially me.

I, like all Mondays, hid in the corner of the crowded history class being unseen. I was thankful for that, not having people poking at me or trying to get my attention, I never had any friends and I didn't want any.

My school, unlike most, was set up into four social groups. First there were the popular kids. Every school has those, right? Though this group isn't mean or snobby they had an 'I'm better then you' air to them. I tried my best to avoid them.

The second group is the misfits. They are nice, but really weird. Most of the time they were my go-to group if I needed a partner in school. I didn't mind them; they were a lot like me, just more sociable.

The third are the 'hoppers'. They were the ones that jumped between the first two groups and didn't really have a place anywhere. Somehow they managed though.

The fourth was me. I don't speak to anyone or do anything, really.

The clock stared me, and the more I stared back, the slower its hands moved. I found it hard to concentrate on the voice of the teacher, instead I found my mind wondering. Random things came to mind, the one that stood out the most was whether or not I should skip gym class. I never would have thought of myself as one to skip a class, but today I didn't feel right.

My skin felt too tight, my eyes drooped abnormally low, and everywhere ached. I could simply sit in the music room and droop on the couches in there, instead of running laps. Finally, the bell rang and I strolled out of the classroom with the flow of the rest of the class. I broke free of the crowd and darted to my locker. My fist slammed on the lock with little force and it snapped open. My locker was just books, my coat, and overflowing with lose papers. Books piled that the top of my locker, threatening to fall. I put my history on the top shelf, using it as a blocker to stop the books from tumbling down on me. It took only seconds to find the small bottle of pain killer. I pondered at how many I should take, but settled on only two.

By this time the hallway was dead, I was the only life form left in it. I walked down the hallway with my hands at my side, praying that the pain killers kicked in soon. Once I reached the music room I slipped in, undetected. The music room was more lounges like than a music room. It had a few couches behind the band equipment, sheet music scattered everywhere and a mini fridge. The fridge had been empty the past few weeks, since the band teacher went into surgery the class was canceled until he made full recovery. Since he normally kept the fridge stocked with bottled water or soda, it remained empty.

I made my way to the couches, brushing my hand along the drum kit on my way. I had wanted to play the drums at one point in my fourteen years of life, but I just never got around to it. It was one of those things that just don’t come to mind.

The couches we hard, but felt great compared to sit-ups on the dirty gym floor. Slowly the pain was numbed and my body almost felt normal again. I stared at the scared ceiling wondering how I had put up with myself all these years.

How had I lived with this version of me? It's all I have known. This sense of not belonging, of doubt, fear and misery had been cast upon me like a shadow leaking in the corner. At that point in time, I could blame it on my parents. It wasn't their fault they were taken from me. I don't think I would ever find out what is wrong with me.

The bell rang, startling me out of my trance. My eyes landed on the clock, with relive I realized school was over. I could finally go home. Soon I found myself standing in front of my locker peering into it, pondering if I had any homework. I was sure I had algebra, biology and English, though I never took any home, I simply pulled my jacket on and started the walk home.

As I approached my house I saw Blair piling a few bags into Aunt Jane's car. Her blond hair bounced on the top of her head while her tiny body dodged snow drifts.

"What on earth are you doing?" I asked as she grabbed the last box off the front step.

She pulled her toque over her ears and sighed, "Bringing some stuff over to the church. Old clothes and some of Jack's old toys, stuff like that."

"Would any of those clothes fit me?" I asked, Blair was three years older then me and taller. Naturally, I get all her old clothes.

"They're all Moms’ old stuff, so probably not."

"Okay, well have fun," I almost had my hand on the door when Blair stopped me.

"Wanna come?" she asked, I could hear the hope in her voice. I knew she would ask, but prayed she wouldn't.

"Sure." I said reluctantly. "If you buy me a coffee."

Blair rolled her eyes, but got into the drivers side of the car. I climbed in next to her, she smiled weakly at me. Blair loved to help the church out, but she never went to mass. Whenever I asked her why, she just shrugged her shoulders and changed the subject. My Aunt didn't go to mass either, I didn't question her about it, but assumed it was for the same reason I didn't go.

My parent’s funeral was held there. Even though I was young when it happened, the image of the two caskets in front of me was permanently etched in the back of my mind. I could never look at the church the same again.

Once Blair was parked in front of the building, she crawled out of the car. Slowly, I followed, taking each box one at a time through the church entrance and into a storage room.

The church was uncomfortably cool, and the only sound was our footsteps against the marble floor. A small, round women had let us inside. She beamed at us, but didn't say anything until the car was empty.

"Thank you very much!" she exclaimed.

"Any time Mrs. Kleemen," Blair shifted uncomfortably as she spoke to the women.

"You mean there's more?" Blair gave Mrs. Kleemen a sideways glance as if to say 'haven't we given enough'. Mrs. Kleemen's round body started to shake with laughter, oddly reminding me of Mrs. Clause.

"I am kidding," she started ushering us toward the door. "I best be going, lost to do before Christmas! Merry Christmas and give Jane my blessings!"

"Christmas?" I asked Blair once we were seating in the car.

"Um... yeah. It's December 20th. We are off school Wednesday," we pulled into a small cafe just a few blocks from the church.

"How could I have possibly forgotten Christmas?"