I can barely make out words. Voices sound like nothing more than a pointless noise, all mixing into one obnoxious, brassy uproar. The deafening howling of teenagers around me is like nails on a chalkboard — no, worse. Forcing my hands over my ears in desperate attempts to drown them out is a failure each time; all I achieve is looking like a complete moron, earning me weird looks and merciless sniggers. Each period, each day, I'm forced to sit here, grit my teeth and bare it. There's no escape. And the cycle repeats.
Who's genius idea was it to put a bunch of hormonal teenagers in one place for years on end? I'd like nothing more than to slap them multiple times. The increase of mental health issues doesn't make matters any better, whether it's caused by the stress school forces upon you everyday, or the media we all want to try and please. You're either the target, or the attacker. Weaklings will victimise weaker. It's a barbaric system.
We're all playing the same game, though approaching it in different ways. One way might totally fuck up someone else's. But in the end, we're all just selfish creatures that want nothing more than to benefit ourselves, and ourselves only. Getting rich, getting famous, whatever.
Why aren't the greater forces putting an end to this? Reports pop up frequently online, each one stating the end of the world is next week, next month, whenever; but it never happens. Most people probably find this relieving; we can live our full lives in so-called peace. This isn't a mindset I share. Sometimes — more often than not, might I add — I wish a meteor would hit this sad world and cure us all of our misery.
But for now, I suppose I have to abide by these stupid rules.
What's there to live for? Failing grades and underpayed jobs? Spending your life in solitude, or letting yourself become a puppet in a desperate attempt to please someone else? Adults would say I haven't even began living yet. That there's so much to look forward to in life. That shit will only get harder. Yet here I am, nothing more than a measly school student, and I wish I was never born.
Why? Well, why not?
The reverberating hysteria filling up the room drills ruthlessly into my skull, my will to live nothing more than a ticking bomb. My hands clench, edged nails digging into my sweaty palm, cutting so deep that the sight of metallic, cerise blood wouldn't surprise me in the slightest.
My eyes fall upon the clock, placed ever so slightly unevenly on the wall just above the teachers desk. Five minutes. Five minutes until I've won. Three hundred seconds until I can break free from this jail cell, only to repeat the battle again tomorrow.
I hate school, and I know I'm not the only one. I know so many people share this opinion for many different reasons. But I really hate this garbage place, more than I can express with words. I hate the curriculum, I hate the teachers, I hate the students I'm forced to deal with. The judgemental pricks I've had to waste my youth-hood with.
As you can probably tell by now, I'm most definitely not a people person. For as long as I can remember, I've always been happy enough to stay silent in the corner and mind my own business, without dragging myself into chaos or keeping up with other people's drama. Isn't it pointless? Every school has their own adaptation of 'Keeping Up with the Kardashian's'.
Four minutes to go.
"Miku!" A voice from up ahead snaps, forcing me back down to reality. Glancing up through a curtain of teal bangs, I'm met with a cold stare. "You look like you've been paying attention." The sarcasm evident here is physically painful. "What was your answer for question 3a?"
The textbook before me is closed. I never bothered to open it. Never had the will to do so. "Umm.." I can feel everyone's gazes burn into me. My mind races. Goes completely blank. By this point, people are laughing. Whispering. I forget to breathe.
This exasperating tap, tap, tap can be heard above the judgemental voices. The teacher taps her foot impatiently against the wooden floor. One quick glance at the equation I'm supposed to answer and I completely lose hope. "Th-Thirty nine!" I blurt the first number than enters my head, though my voice is nothing more than a whisper.
Three minutes.
More whispering. More laughing. More pointing. The teacher crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. I look down, avoiding all eye contact. Wishing the floor could swallow me up and suffocate me. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. Could you speak up, please?" The question sounds more like a demand.
A long silence as I search for my mute voice, only broken by the giggles of my peers. I inhale sharply. "Thirty nine?" I repeat, the sentence sounding more like an inquiry than a confident answer. Well, of course it's a question.
She scowls. "Incorrect. Pay more attention! You won't learn anything by sitting there and looking sorry for yourself." That's it. The noise skyrockets, the little self esteem I have deploys, crashing lifelessly.
Defeated, I just shake my head and avert my gaze to the desk below. Wishing for everyone to just drop it and forget about my existence. Why do they care in the first place? I'm just a laughing stock. That being said, I'm probably their source of entertainment, their personal comedian. How could I forget?
Two.
Messy scribbles dominate my exercise book. Valuable pages that are supposed to be used to take notes and work out pointless questions have been put to different use. Let's get one thing straight — I'm no artist. At least, I don't think I am.
This awkward doodle I'm staring down at is almost unrecognisable. Through the scribbles, crosses and messy lines, the figure of a girl can just about be seen. Her eyes are sad, tired-looking. Her hands are wrapped around her skinny little neck.
It's painful how pathetic I am. I hate who I've become. How weak I've become. My former self wasn't necessarily amazing, sure — but much better than the person I am now. At least she could smile and laugh. At least she could make those around her smile, too. She had big ambitions, wanted to achieve great things... but instead, she became a dull, pessimistic, monotonous waste of oxygen.
One.
I've had it with this facility, these people, this lifestyle. All I want to do is stay at home in the safety of my room. I want nothing more than to shut myself out and hibernate until the end of the world.
That being said, there's a couple of humans I suppose I'd miss. I don't have many friends — I'm by no means a popular girl, no, not even close. If everyone within these walls were to be grouped into different categories, I'd be under the misfits, the losers. To be fair, however, I'd rather be a nobody than be a part of the dramatic, slutty, popular kids. I can't think of anything worse.
Sounds desirable, doesn't it? Though sadly, being a nobody isn't always a piece of cake. People will still find a way to get on top and push you down, despite your best attempts to stay afloat.
I have no optimism left. The innocent, cheerful little girl I once was has gone. Long gone. There's no trace of her in sight.
This fucked-up world is against me, no matter what I do. And that's why I don't want to be here anymore. That's why I would much rather cease to exist.
And that's when the bell rings; a deafening, life-saving sound. My queue to wake up, get up and get the hell out of here. Everyone rushes around frantically. shoving textbooks back onto the shelves, tossing their pencil cases into their bags, laughing, joking and play-fighting with their friends. And then, swiftly, they filter out of the room, instead invading the cramped corridors.
As soon as I set foot into the corridor, I'm swept away by the sea of desperate students, all elbowing their way to freedom. I bite my lip hard as elbows jab me in the ribs left, right and centre, trying to push aside any thoughts invading my mind.
The stream of students eventually splits. With a sigh, I weave through the many groups of immobile teenagers, my mind set on reaching my locker which is, conveniently, placed in the furthest corner of the room. At some point, I accidentally bump into an upper class student, who peers down at me through narrow eyes like I'm nothing more than some slimy insect. "Watch it." He growls, before trudging off.
Begrudgingly, I grab my keys from my blazer pocket and fumble around with them, attempting to unlock the compartment. To my annoyance, the keys slip through my fingers and onto the wooden floor with a 'clink'. A couple of boys walking past kick the keys before I can reach them, and they disappear from sight.
"Just great." I mutter to myself, collapsing against my locker and breathing out a huge sigh. The impact causes a loud 'crash' to sound, sending weird glances my way. Avoiding any eye contact, I clench my fist and grit my teeth, tears of frustration welling up in my eyes.
I'm constantly carrying around a heart that's on the verge of breaking apart. The slightest knock will send me crumbling. It's only a matter of time...
"Here." A pale hand appears in front of my face, waving around a pair of keys. Hastily, I drag a sleeve furiously across my face, before taking the keys and turning to the blonde standing next to me.
"Thank you.." I mumble, deliriously unlocking the locker and shoving some books into the tiny space, before slamming the sapphire door shut again.
Through the dull reflection, I see Rin's cerulean eyes are fixated on me, watching my actions with raised eyebrows. I avoid eye contact, instead focusing on my own reflection — the girl staring back at me is nothing more than a hot mess. My unruly teal bangs are sticking out in different directions, and the dark circles under my eyes are noticeable from a mile away.
I brush through my bangs with my fingers and close my eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath in attempt to retain my composure. All the while, I feel Rin's gaze burning into me — I can't quite tell what she's thinking.
After a moments hesitation, she grabs my arm gently and gives it a tug. "Come on, let's be getting out of here," she suggests. "Len'll be waiting by the gate."
Without a doubt, the Kagamine twins are my best friends — hell, I'd go as far to say they're probably my only friends; always there for me through thick and thin, helping me back up to my feet when I fail to stand alone.
I don't deserve them. That's a fact.
I follow close behind Rin. The chatter dies down significantly as we tread through the corridor, only to be replaced by obnoxious howling.
I blink hard. Some guys are gathered in the middle of the narrow space, completely blocking the way. One of them is grasping a phone, a tall guy with messy hair and piercing blue eyes. I immediately recognise him as Kaito. His mates cackle and wheeze, occasionally slapping him on the shoulder and saying "good one, bro" through exaggerated rasps.
My steady walking pace slows to a halt.
"Excuse me, bastards!" Rin calls shamelessly out to them, her high-pitched voice raised.
Kaito and his mates all look up abruptly. "What is it, nerds?" I hear one of them call, a guy at the back of the crowd with bright red hair. To them, we are nothing more than dirt on the bottom of their shoes.
Kaito, biggest fuckboy of them all. He flirts with the popular chicks, and has probably screwed most of them. Most girls fall for him the minute they see him. They swoon when he combs a hand through his thick hair, bites his lip and winks at them — he's foul, playing people like instruments. Yet everyone seems to fall for his charm.
Maybe there's something wrong with me, but I don't see what's so good about him. He isn't bad looking, I guess, just.. average. Everyone's average. Almost everyone.
The red head is Fukase, the class clown that always takes shit too far. He wears this annoying smirk like a mask all day, every day. There's also Dell, who is quite frankly just a huge prick. Of course, there's many more members to this cool kid squad, but I really don't care enough to recall all their names. I don't have much reason to.
Sassily, Rin places a hand on her hip and smiles up at them. "Could you kindly move? You're blocking the way."
They all exchange glances, before letting out a laugh. "And what if we said no?" One calls out. Original comment.
Rin flicks her blonde hair back over her shoulder. "Oh please boys. If you deny, I'll be at your asses." She responds, narrowing her cerulean eyes and smiling devilishly. I stay silent, watching the scene play out.
My best friend is very unlike me. She's confident, funny and optimistic. She's talkative and opinionated — many a little too much so at times. She's sassy and carefree, but also extremely caring and gentle.
Another guy furrows his brows, before flashing a smile and winking. "Seven, my place. I'll see you there, shortie." He responds in a tone of voice I can only hope is sarcastic. His mates look at him, an "ooooh" arising in the crowd.
"Looks like Yohio is getting it on for the first time, lads!" Dell howls, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Good for you, man." Their laughter is obnoxious. How does Rin deal with this so cooly? It's beyond me.
Rin pulls a face, as if pondering the invitation. "Move aside, and I'll see what I can do." Sure enough, after a moment, they move aside. Rin smiles sweetly at them before walking past.
Just as I'm about to follow behind her, a few of the guys move back aside, creating a barrier once again as they start chatting once more. "Are you for real?" I can't help myself from muttering under my breath in annoyance, clenching my fist tightly once more.
"Ahem." Rin clears her throat, attracting their attention once more. She raises an eyebrow and beckons towards me. "She's with me. Let her through." No please, no politeness. She's demanding. And it works.
Begrudgingly, they move aside once more. I scurry over to my friend, ashamed, embarrassed and absolutely done.
At first, we walk in silence down the corridor, and out of the building. As soon as I set foot onto the concrete path outside, I'm met with cloudy skies concealing the desperate sun, and a biting wind curling itself mercilessly around my jittering body.
Rin is the first to speak as we make our way towards the exit. "What would you have done without me there, Miku?" She side-glances me through stern, yet caring sapphire orbs. "You need to speak up for yourself more."
But I can't. I don't think I can. I don't want to. I want to be invisible. I'd rather be dead.
Does she know this? No, she doesn't. Neither does Len. What would they say to this? Maybe they'd think I'm overreacting? Maybe they'd be worried? I don't want anyone to be worried about me. I don't deserve that, and neither does anyone else. Nobody should be having to deal with a burden like me.
I avert my gaze and keep walking. That's all I can do. There's nothing I can tell her. Not yet, anyway. My fists curls up into an even tighter clench. If I could, I'd scream, shout and cry my eyes out. But I can't do that. My voice is barely a whisper.
I never used to be this way. Can you believe I was once a naïve, optimistic, happy-go-lucky girl? I was air-headed, I was cutesy. I could make people laugh until they had tears in their eyes. Hell, I loved people. Everyone was so nice. I had all the hope in the world, for both myself and society.
But that all came crashing down.
Now, most people are fake bitches. Society judges your every little move. You have to look a certain way, talk a certain way, like certain things to be considered good enough, and these are all qualities I lack. The planet around us is dying. I feel like I'm dying too, little by little, on the inside.
I can't feel things the way I was able to. I've not felt true happiness for months; instead, I'm accustomed to numbness, sadness, eternal anger, and a lack of motivation to do anything. And to be honest, I don't understand it all myself. How can such an innocent person change so drastically?
Rin stops walking abruptly, and after walking a few more steps alone, I turn back in confusion. Before I can question it, she steps forward and throws her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "Miku, you aren't okay. You can talk to me about absolutely anything. I want you to be okay again, and if there's any way I could help you, then I'm more than willing to do so." She murmurs. For a moment, I stand there tensely, the sudden action unexpected. A couple more moments pass before I lean into the hug limply, the kind gesture only making me feel worse.
There was a point where I had a crush on her. A huge crush, on none other than my best friend. And though she never found out, I still hate myself for it. I still like her a bit — but all hope is lost. She's straight, that's a fact. And if anything went wrong... I don't want to think of the consequences.
I'm not even really sure what my sexuality is. Ages ago, I liked boys. I'd follow a load of cute guys on social media, I'd fantasise over a nice relationship with a hot guy, I'd point out to my friends a good-looking boy when we were hanging out. In a nutshell, I was a typical, boy-obsessed teenager.
But things went in a downward spiral from there, and I lost all interest. Guys at school were loud, obnoxious, immature. I wanted nothing to do with them. To be honest, some girls aren't much better — they can be awfully bitchy and downright annoying.
What am I thinking? This really isn't my biggest concern right now.
Pushing my spiralling thoughts to the back of my mind, I let out a small sigh and pull away. Rin smiles at me sadly. "Come on. Len will be wondering where we are."
I don't deserve her. I don't deserve either of them. What did I ever do to deserve them? I don't want to let them down. They don't deserve to be let down. I don't want to hurt them. I'm a monster.
"I'm sorry." I mutter.