True blood

Flaws

     The halls were crowded with people, and the chaos was so perfect, like a movie. There was the couple that was always making out on the left side of the hall, and about ten feet farther down, the cliquey girls. Opposite them, the cliquey jocks, and between them, the parade of band geeks with their huge instrument cases. There were the aerospace tech kids who never did anything but make paper airplanes and the fashion kids that wheeled mannequins and clothing racks down the halls. And then there was me, not that I fit into any of those groups.

     The tiles are a checker board with different spices as the pieces. The whole building sends a chill down my spine and reminds me of something out of my nightmares. I do not want to be here, I think and I wrap my arms around my chilled body; this is the last place I want to be. Unfortunately it is my fault I’m here, my doing, there is no going back now.

Laughter sounds along the halls, joined with excited conversations and shouts. Model worthy girls perch on the tables like exotic birds gossiping and giggling, a football fly’s above their heads between two jocks in varsity jackets parading their toned muscles. Groups of high schoolers sit around the room laughing and causing all kinds of ruckus, all except one group that sit silently staring at laptop screens with massive headphones which appear to be permanently strapped to their heads. A breath of air brushes my ear; I follow the breeze and see a blue striped paper plane gracefully gliding through the air before sliding across the tiled hall to stop with its nose against the wall. 

    My new school friend smells like peaches. I get this urge to sit closer to her just to take in the aroma but it's not polite. Her hair is almost black, only showing hints of deepest brown when he passes by the window. Her eyes are pale, blue, but so watery you'd almost expect to see them on someone albino. Her laugh is so infectious the teacher punishes her for even a giggle rather than have the whole class snickering into their algebra. Her voice is deeper than girls usually have, not boyish, but a semi-octave lower than is usual. I think I love her a little too much, but so much as to call it a crush. It's just that when she's near I feel her gravitational pull and I can't help but spin into orbit. 

  And here i am a new girl in French class.  I speaks like i hears my own voice ten times louder than everyone else does, timid, like "une petite souris." I think that's what makes my mouth seem too small, like over the years my shyness has made it that way. When i approaches people, my head held downward as if i fears an attack. I wonder what it would be like to live in my head, fearful of the world like i am . I look around me and see friends, most of them selfish narcissists saving up for selfie-sticks, but friends nonetheless.  I've made it my mission to build up my self esteem.

   The worst flaw a person can have is that of self-deception. I was like that.I acted on impulse and then created the reason for my actions after the fact. If i was feeling good i did good things, if i was feeling negative in any way i did bad things. I felt like my good deeds meant i was a good person and my bad deeds were justified. In truth i never thought before i acted or spoke, i never stopped to ask myself if my response was the right one, or merely the first knee-jerk reaction that sprung to mind. Whatever i said was almost never true, or at least it was only "true" for me. That's why our family fell apart, he wasn't the only one doing it and no two sides of the same story ever matched.

   I ought to be the powerful but i am the fearful,scared of them not accepting me,scared of been useless,scared of loving ,scared of i dont even know. 

"Arent you ready for gym alpha" asked beta Scar my bestfriend.

"Stop with the alpha buiness" giggle i.

"Be quick ya dont want to be  late?" asked her.