Story Cafe

Hey can somebody read this please and give me some feed back on it. Thanks.

I always thought being one of them would be easy, effortless almost. I didn’t believe in them as such, it was more that I liked the idea of their existence. In my mind they were a symbol of freedom, living wherever they wanted and with no rules.
I had no idea quite how wrong I was.

I waited, almost patiently for her to announce my arrival as I knew she would do. This scene had been repeated a number of times in both reality and my dreams; and so I knew how it went. This was a routine for me. Every eye in that classroom was fixed on the new girl, on me. A part of me hated it, hated the attention but I guess I was too used to it to actually care any longer.
Save for a select handful, they were nothing special; the people in this class I mean. Each of them was pale and bored looking with either dull brown or dirty blonde hair. They looked like robots, just sitting there in their seats waiting to be called upon. Not one of them was permitted even a second of my attention, for in short they were all very dull.
However, four people in the class were not confined within the boundaries of simplicity as were their classmates. Saying that, it was not that these four were startlingly beautiful or perfect for they were not; it was more that they were different.
The girl was slender and like the two boys on either side of her, she was heavily tanned, her coffee coloured skin a startling comparison to the ghostly white people (robots) around her. Her black hair was cut short, in an almost boyish fashion that somehow suited her. She was pretty, but not outrageously so and the one eye that was not covered by her hair was a cold shade of grey. People kept casting her and her companions petrified glances, as though they were something to be feared. And that was the impression one got from them. Just from the way that they sat you could see that they weren’t the type of people you messed with in a hurry; or at all.
To her left was a boy very much like she. His features were however, less feminine (of course) and it seemed, much more crudely fashioned. The shade of black that his hair was, like the girl’s, not as dull as the others in the class. In fact, hairstyle wise he almost mirrored the girl beside him, although his own hair was slightly shorter and less arranged. It seemed to have been left where it fell, whereas the girl had obviously straightened hers into place.
His mouth was set in a seemingly permanent frown, which was mirrored in his quite bored looking grey eyes. Eyes which were locked on the desk. Neither of them looked at up her as she stood there at the front of the class, waiting to be seated somewhere.
On the other side of the girl was a person whom was actually looking at me. He didn’t look quite as harsh or mean, although people still cast him worried glances. He was bulkier than the other boy and obviously taller. His dark brown hair appeared slightly red, which made it a somewhat rusty colour, his skin as tanned as the other pair’s, which was what made his so visibly one of them and not a robot.
His eyes however, stood out more than anything else. Set in a face that was to some degree good looking, they shone as though they were diamonds embedded in his flesh. His expression looked glazed due to his eyes, which seemed almost steamed up what with the colour. It was after some consideration and with a great deal of sorrow that I noted him to be blind.
When I had seen him to be looking at me, I had not noticed that he seemed rarely to blink and that in fact, his eyes were focussed on the wall just slightly to my left and not actually on myself.
As if feeling my eyes on him, he looked down at the desk and like the other boy, started tracing patterns on the desk with a single long finger. Barely two seconds later, the girl looked up and meeting my gaze directly narrowed her eyes into what just had to be described as a glare. I got the message instantly, “stop staring”.
The final of the somewhat interesting people and yet another boy, sat apart from the others and it had to have been said that he looked the most normal out of the four. Saying that however, he was nothing like the robots gathered around him.
He did not have a skin tone that could be described as pale, but neither could it be said he was considerably tanned. Therefore, he would have to be painted as that of something in the middle of the two.
His dark brown hair was gathered in a collection of ringlet curls over his head, eyes of almost exactly the same shade set into a relatively normal looking face. These eyes reminded me of a deer, for they were wide with certain shyness, but whilst glinting with a suppressed humour he appeared afraid to express.
He was looking up at me unlike now all of the other three, but with a sort of trepidation, not utter surprise or confusion as with the robots. I knew why the robots were looking at me so; none of them had been warned of my coming. In fact, my enrolment in this school had been decided just two days previously and it was not liable to last for much longer than a few weeks. There had never been a reason to stay in one place for any length of time.
The teacher, a short and slightly overweight woman smiled unsurely as she visibly struggled to make a decision as to my placement. There were a number of free desks dotted about the room and in the end she simply motioned for me to choose one.
I strode down the nearest isle between two desks, smirking slightly as the people in them leaned away from me. I saw myself reflected in their eyes and knew why it was that they did so. It was for the simple reason that I was nothing like them.
The tie was fastened, but hung a good two inches below an unbuttoned collar. Ink splattered the rolled up sleeves of an untucked shirt and there was writing in an array of different colours over my lower arms and hands. My skirt was shorter than it was supposed to be, half due to the fact it was a good size too small. I do admit to reducing its size even further on purpose though.
Brown hair fell to a position just past my shoulders, which was the longest I was ever going to permit it to get.
Compared to their state of unnatural cleanliness, I looked a mess. And I knew it. And guess what, I couldn’t care less!
I seated myself as close to the back as possible and found myself next to the window. The view I had been given was of the boys in the year below (I think) playing rugby on the school field. It was not the most interesting thing I can tell you.
The boy with the curly hair was on the opposite side of the room and just two rows back from the front, but luckily he was in perfect view. He was not watching me for the time while I picked my seat, but as I swung my bag up onto the desk with a satisfying thud, he turned and flashed me a grin. And I found myself smiling back, which was strange. Then again from the look of him I guessed he was the sort to have an infectious smile.
“Hey,” the boy in front of me turned in his seat, a friendly but unsure smile on his face, “I’m Jared.”
“Hi,” I looked up, but only briefly; that way there hadn’t been time to register what he looked like. The last thing I needed was to become familiar with the people in this school.
“Where have you just moved from?” he asked instead of turning back around like I had hoped.
“No clue,” I answered, which was the honest answer. I didn’t make a habit of remembering the schools I had been to. That would mean too many names, too many memories I did not want. And worst of all, it would mean too much pain.
The lesson passed as a blur, but then they always did. I learned little, but then they were attempting to teach me something I had already learnt, three times, in three different schools. The boy, Jared, continued to turn around, commenting on different parts of the lesson and checking that I was doing okay. In some ways I didn’t mind him doing so, but I would have much rather he’d left me alone.
Jared was the only person in the class whom had even bothered to speak to me. All of the others just stared and I don’t think they really saw me at all. It was just the norm for them to look at the newest thing in the room.


The End For Now