Saving You ; Saving Me

Intro : Saving You Day 1

Chapter 1: Intro

All the halls were the same. The same dirty, dull, and gray tiles that lead to the classrooms that were either on the left or to the right. Floors littered with all sorts of crap. From candy rappers to love letters that were discarded. Trash, it was all trash. Trash that was scattered around  making a shit hole of the school, but who was I to judge? I was no better, I still did nothing as I passed by the unwanted.

Sluggishly waking down the worn down tiles, I noticed flyers that people had made for their clubs and other shit. I noticed the You'll never be forgotten signs, but passed by with a shrug. Bullshit I say, they've already forgotten and just pretend to care.

Nothing New, I thought as I continued my journey. Everyone in here was like the trash they dropped hazardously on the floor. They'll be replaced, forgotten, and never seen of again. That is if the the stuff Cody keeps selling is still on the market in twenty plus years from now.

But who was I to care? I was a nobody. Just a person fading away to the nothingness that grew into my heart. Making a big hole that was once filled with love and happiness to now a numb lifelessness that's dying.

As I continued my God forsaken path I noticed a few things. Like how the staples that were left behind had engraved puncture marks on the board, similar as to that of what the Jocks- who punched the green lockers trying to terrify the incoming freshman. Bunch of assholes I tell you.

I guess I was just as much of an asshole as them. I hadn't stopped them from doing that kinda crap. I just always thought that if I wasn't involved with the actually activity or being a part of the abusive dictatorship to the freshmen then I wasn't bad. But as time progressed and my need to want to strive grew, I had noticed that stuff like that only worsened the problem. When I tried to stand up people quieted down surprised but that power I held is gone. I'm just a passing memory as I heard someone say. Fucking asshole, I thought as I continued onward in this hell hole I call school.

~But things change and so do people~

People are always walking through the crowded area like the plague. As I started to actually observe this I noticed some stuff. Like how it was noisy and chaotic when the friend groups emerged and the phonies of the school came to a halt to then disperse and conversation with other people pushing each other around with every step they took. Their footsteps echoeing through these damn tilled concrete halls. With their chains not too far away from them. Clacking along the way. Shining brightly in the dull yellow lights on the wall near the cameras plastered on the walls to watch us. They're always watching, yet not once had they stopped the injustices that have occured. They supposedly never notice what's going on....(They never notice a damn thing.) No one does ..... Amazing remodels (Note the sarcasm). When the newspaper came rushing in, the school played the victim card crying and weeping a mess of Their two faced dignity. Pretending as if they didn't know, or realize the shit that was going on. I rolled my eyes at the thought of Mrs.Jackson, the principal, actually crying over the ordeal that happened. She just said the loss of the student brought many pains and sorrows to the school and it's facility.

"Cry me a River with your crocodile tears." I mumbled under my breath as I passed by the bitch.

I felt like I was standing back and glooming over everyone-floating off the ground going up. But here I stood, not progressing forward, and feeling void and lost for words. Almost like I was drunk barely having an understanding of what was going on around me. I felt like nothing was going to change. Observing the world instead of really putting myself in it. Though I can't do that now... Just drifting around like I always did.

From there my attention, then swivels to Sally-May James the popular it girl. Your typical QUEEN-BEE with her black locks that hid her true self. For what she hides from the outside world isn't something to let go so easily. Her perfumed beauty was a disguise of her true intentions as she dolled herself up to look like a Princess. With short flowing dresses and flats with vivid prints of pastel colors with a small dainty purse. Trying to play the role as a damsel in distress.

Then shifting my green eyes to look at Cassidy Mayers the nervous twitchy girl. Who had those kind of teary eyes that made you question who had made her cry those pools of water. How I adored her vibrant eyes, wishing I could just stare in them all day. I would, trust me. But, as I searched her expressive eyes all I saw were the drowning of her fiery spirit and loving compassion out like an overflowing river.

For my eyes to then travel to Mathews the towns brainiac by day but by night the town's all-time athlete. But , part time drug addict. Interesting combination is it not? The irony is deep rooted there isn't it?

The lovely people ,of this ghost town, never noticed the things I noticed. They never watched the youth, or try to meet the real them. To see who they really were. I saw the pretty- popular girl go through the stages of sadness to anger. She felt alone, a need-no a crave for attention , and to ruin things that she didn't have business in. So, when she spoke it didn't seem to be true. (Well , nothing of these sorts.) For no one would believe that her then boyfriend , Justin, raped her .

For no one saw that Cassidy was cutting herself from the loss of not only her older brother in the Marines but also her Father who died of Cancer a year after. Then there was another who she loved that passed away recently. But , she was a prime person for bullying. A prime victim with a shiny and brilliantly bright past. That people liked reminding her of. She let it slip by....But , she can still shine I admit, but no one would see it over the fact that people painted her as a whore. Blaming her for the loss of the town's quaterback.

To then bring our attention to Matthew's story. For nobody saw Matthew smoking weed or doing any other kind of drugs in his backyard shed. (How original) For it's his way to cope with his nerves after not getting an A in one of his classes. He then knew he was going to get a beating like no tomorrow when his Father found out.

But, the truth is that people did see these things , but they wouldn't acknowledge it. They never brought attention to any of these things for if they shed light to it then it must be true. If they said that Scott Mathews was a druggie then that would ruin his perfect golden boy image. If they said his father Paul Mathews was an abusive Alcoholic the town would go in a mad daze. It would take away fame from this town and make it look like the shit-hole that it really is. People didn't know how to react. They were all afraid, for how do you explain Sally-May getting raped to Cassidy cutting herself. Or better yet, how do you explain to her two young son's that their father isn't going to come back from the trip to the super market? That they'll never see him again. How do you fix these things, that have been broken for such a long time? No one wanted to take a stand for these young ones. No one knew how to be the hero in a place where dreams died and the suburban dreams thrived.

So , here I am. The loner, the creepy person on the side just watching all this. Being the narrator for most of what's going on if we must get all technical, telling you how this plays out. How Sally-May either swims or drowns in her own self-righteous anger. Though I'm putting my bet on the latter. To Cassidy coming to a realization that it wasn't her fault. For that's all she knows. To then unravel the lies that she's been told and everyone else has whispered about her in the shadows. To then swing to Matthew. To see whether he escapes from the act, or he keeps playing his part. Or, if he sees drugs as not being the answer to the issue's he's facing. For I ,lovely readers, don't know myself . For I play a part in this mystery as well, and I have an obligation to go along to see if they end up in ruins like Johnson.

For I am going along the ride reporting back to those curious. For my future , present , and past will be told throughout this long year of hell. And if you buckle up your seat belts and have a tight grip on your chair, it's gonna be a bumpy ride