By Jack Joseph

This is my response to the fear prompt. It’s meant to be from someone’s perspective that doesn’t realize that he or she is living in fear. Contains barely any mature language.

_________

I left as quickly as I could. I hadn’t said anything, luckily, but I could still feel all of their eyes on me. Why can’t they just let me suffer on my own? It’s bad enough as it is without them laughing behind my back. I know they do it. Even if I try to spend the period with my head down while I doodle in my note-book, their attention gravitates towards me. Oh, they’re subtle though. I rarely see them stare at me directly, but I know that they do it. Those clever assholes have had years to practice.

The walk home is blissful, even though I know I have homework, projects, presentations, finals, interviews, applications, tests, and quizzes all hanging over my head like the Sword of Damocles. I finally had time to be away from those bastards and just breath (which, coincidentally enough, is what my biology presentation next Thursday is about — breathing, I mean). I didn’t need to worry about the cars passing by me on the sidewalk and what the drivers thought of me. Why should they? I’m nothing to them! I am a bystander in their lives. I play such an insignificant role that anyone could do it! The blink of an eye and I’m gone. Just like that. Never really needed to be there in the first place. God what a beautiful kind of life. No one peering into you, asking questions about what you think, who you look up to, or what kind of ice cream you like. They’re all sentimental and shallow. No one honestly cares what other people think. Why should they? We all have our deficiencies. We all have our awful experiences.

The sky is overcast with a hint of rain. Perfect. Rain is so …enclosing. It singles us out away from the rest of the world and isolates us from the horrors. People don’t want to spend time outside when it rains; they only care about getting under the umbrella or rushing back into their own homes. There’s no need to try to get together with others while the rain keeps up! Even the leaves of the trees have deserted each other to avoid the downpour. Their true colors are shown and none of ’em can stand to be near the others when that happens. If nature is so honest, why can’t we? Probably because we, as humans, are soooo much better than nature. We don’t accept it; we conqueror it! We humans are such morons.

Though I drag my feet, I’m home. I open the door, make some bull-shit response to my mother’s “how was your day?,” say I have a fair bit of homework and disappear upstairs into my room. I know she doesn’t mind my response; I’ve been telling her the same thing for seven years. She wouldn’t want me to tell her the truth anyway. She’d just ignore it, or worse, have some two-faced “psychologist” come and talk to me. Nah, it’s best for the both of us. It’s the lies that we hide that keeps relationships together, isn’t it? If we told each other what we really thought, everyone would realize just how despicable we all are.  We’re all assholes, most people just don’t accept it.

My room is just as I left it when I went off to that wretched school: books collecting dust, shiny black computer, and my desk an organized mess. Though I have loads of homework, I only finish half of it. I hate working past seven o’clock, it just feels like I’m wasting my life away. I turn on my computer and zone out until it’s time for dinner. Dinner is delicious, but I don’t remember what we had. I spend the evening deflecting questions. Not much to report. We had a test today; it went pretty well, but there were a few questions I’m not sure about. We discussed the Great Depression in English today (though I didn’t mention that I spent the time trying to draw that stupid raven that sits on the branch of the tree outside the classroom; it’s not important. They wouldn’t be interested). Thankfully, the meal ends. I go upstairs, zone out in front of the white screen and go to bed a few hours later. All in all, an excellent evening.