Five

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Students.

I always perceived them as creatures unknown of their endowment. It's casual, I guess, that they want to be unique when they already are. I'm not saying this because this is ordinary—which I'd love to be—but it's not that. I've been just quite an observer, I presume.

When I was one of them, I used to loathe hanging with my friends. My dad used to take us for trips to faraway lands: mountains, beaches and even forests and deserts, where people accustomed with me. I always buzzed on how bellyaching these were. How unfortunate I was to be having people 24/7. I estimated I never really understood the worth of possessing friends, until I couldn't have it anymore.

For instance, today's dramatic confrontation. How many of them even looked at me? They were all scrapping away from a disordered girl, sobbing her eyes out.


I furnished a sigh, as I passed the silent corridors. Majestic artworks were hung on the walls, and they didn't bomb to neglect me. I was just taking some glimpses over them, when suddenly a voice echoed in the maze.



"Wait up for me!"



I revolved around and scowled at the figure sprinting towards me. I quickly meandered about and started scampering swiftly, urging to persuade away from him.



Aye, that's right. It was none other than Jake.



After dashing through some few more passages, I finalized that he was probably gone and thus twisted around. Cold wind thrashed on my face.



"Finding me?" I almost got a heart attack as the guy suddenly appeared in front of me. He watched me for a moment before continuing, "I know this school more than you, Blake Williams."

"How did you—" Honestly, I was bewildered that he was familiar with my name. But I achieved that it was possibly the papers that relied him which I signed at the principal's.




Ignore him.



I pushed past him and proceeded walking. He caught up with me once more. Gosh, why can't he just leave me alone? This surely had to be some former karma. Nobody meets thrice in a coincidence.



"Are you seriously ignoring me?" He started again. I didn't bother to respond. He resumed, "Oh come on."



Don't answer.



"Fine. Just tell me one thing. What is cystic fibrosis?"

My eyes widened at such question. Who in this world didn't know what cystic fibrosis was?!

"It's the syndrome I have." Oh God, I retorted. Shit.


He grinned, satisfied with my answer. How was that something to be glad about? See, this is why I don't like school and stuff. THIS PARTICULAR REASON.


I halted and crossed my arms. He concealed his leer and hushed his emotions. "You think this is funny? Oh wait, of course you do. You all do. Just because I'm—this, you people prefer to avoid me. And no matter what, that's never going to be hilarious to me."


He dropped his head, sinking his voice down. Stillness draped the hallway. I clenched my teeth and twisted the other way, wandering down to my allotted classroom. I could feel his glare over me. And his gaze always spoke a lot, unconcerned of how deep I was hurt.



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