As I rejoined the world of the living, I found myself in landscape of ruins in my own room and my own house, and I did not c are. I looked up to my clock lingering above my head. The glowing, red 7:20 stared at me, giving me that look of disappointment that I had become so accustomed to. Obscenities fled from my mouth as I unwrapped myself from my covers, tripping over my table that held a plate of now-cold eggs and room temperature milk that my mom had apparently gotten up early to prepare for me. I tried to avoid knocking over the glass, but it had already happened. The cup lay on its side, as a waterfall of white fluid rushed over the edge of the table. I neglected the mess, inte

I conquered the stairs and ran to the kitchen, specifically the refrigerator. I went for the door, noticing a piece of paper attached with the incessantly annoying smiley face magnet: “Hope you enjoyed your breakfast. I’ll see you when you get home from school. Have a good day. I love you, Mom.”

My friends interrupted my thoughts by questioning my silence. I excused myself as being sick. Being sick was always my excuse. It was better than trying to explain that I sometimes enjoyed silence. People seem to have forgotten that solitude, just as the rain, can still be a good thing.

I watched the flocks of people maneuver their way across the sidewalk. There was the girl. I had no idea who she was. I had no knowledge about her. I didn’t even know her name. I saw her walking to class every morning, yet I could not conjure up the strength to bring myself to talk to her. In the midst of a world where everyone’s face burns, hers was the one that glows. My friends constantly encouraged me to talk to her, but I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t sure why though. There was no one else that I was interested in. After all, my girlfriend had broken up with me over three months ago. It wasn’t like I still wanted to be with her. It wasn’t like I couldn’t get over her. It wasn’t even that I missed her, but maybe it was that I missed my heart. It was the one thing I had given her that I should’ve taken back. For some reason, I didn’t. Tomorrow, tomorrow I would talk to the girl. Tomorrow I would find out who she was.

The bell rang. I began walking to class, passing my fellow sheep on my way. Yet, there weren’t my fellow sheep; there was something that set me apart from them.

Some topics in this essay:
School People, , Tell I’m, Mom Dad, Mom She’s, Where Wires, Mom I’ll, please tell, Dead I’m, don’t care, i’m sorry, i’m sorry times, tell i’m, parents love, sorry times, fellow sheep, matter happens, walking class, mom she’s,