My body automatically did the assignment. My half-dead brain processed the information to complete the assignment then threw it out. I glanced at the clock. 12:40. Almost time for lunch. I did the mindless boring work until eventually, the bell rang.
I quickly packed my stuff and stood up. I blinked and found myself walking down the stairs and submerging myself in the crows going to the main lunch area. I automatically pulled out of the crowd and went to a recluse area. Checking, I noticed all the seats were taken up. I walked back a little to see my backup seat taken.
I walked much slower to the bathroom nearby, I do it every time I don't get a seat. I walked into the track with a football field. I stayed on the side and went towards the bathroom. I went into the boys' bathroom to be greeted by a slightly disturbing smell. The lockers are far worse.
I noticed, one of the dividers for the stall was taken off and leaned against the wall. I went to the only urinal with privacy and let out a little piss. I went to the sink and washed my hands. Soon, I caught my reflection in the mirror, emotionless as always.
I went to the worst-case scenario seat. One right next to the most used pathway, there is always at least one person walking on it, it is around the same noise level but I have always hated crowds. Who am I kidding, what teenager wants to be caught eating lunch alone?
I sat on a small stone bench next to the trash, decently away from anyone. Less stress and noise this way.
I sat down at the end, from my personal experience this part that is less shaded now will become full by the end of lunch. If I sat on the other line of benches across from me, I may have a backrest and less attention. But, I will also end up baking in the sun.
I sat down in the seat and started eating my lunch. It was great as usual, some of the people walking noticed me. Who cares~? Well, I do. I can't wait to grow up and not deal with this shit.
The only upside to this seat is that the main crowd left by the time I sit, some will go back through with their lunch, but most will stay there. The benefit was that there were lots of seats and the food pick up was there. Good for me.
I sat and opened an app to read novels, just mindlessly reading. Emotional scenes falling like a dove to my wall. Sure enough, soon there was a paywall. Sighing~ I pondered if it was interesting enough. Finding the power system interesting, I opened my usual pirate site. It wasn't there so I just googled it. Opening the link I continued reading, ads briefly passing my vision.
Soon lunch passed and I went towards my fifth class. I walked buried in the book into the field and crossed it. I found myself in a series of classrooms and instinctively walked into mine. Due to the renovations, we were moved here. I found my seat and just continued reading in it.
Soon an Asian teen sat next to me and we started talking. We talked in an engaging conversation. Not like it evoked anything in me, it was just to not be left without a partner for the next group project.
Class started and I put my phone in my pocket. The teacher walked up to the whiteboard and wrote in massive letters. CONFORMITY. He proceeded to talk about how we will be writing an essay on the topic. Soon everyone started brainstorming countless ideas with each other.
He wanted us to do something unique, but in my last essay, he had me rewrite four times to become generic. I still got 98% so prioritize it less. I also noticed how he leaned toward melancholic realistic themes. He made me write about how there is an unrecoverable gap in status after birth. He is just a pathetic teacher.
No, I need to be nicer.
Anyways, he also loves to be 'devil's advocate.' Along with the other information about him, he likes things that fit his opinion and approves of his flawed ideologies. It's like he's turning the class into a fucking echo chamber.
Everyone is writing about why not conforming is good, that is the theme of the books we were allowed to use. However, I decided to write about how the truth is the opposite. Conforming leads to a better life than being yourself. This is a truth that everyone knows whether they acknowledge it or not.
He is going to love or hate this topic, but if he hates it, he will just rewrite it himself like my last one. Teachers care less about results and more about 'effort,' which is the stupidest thing I've ever realized. Why? Because they want the one who deserves it to get it? That is not how life works, no wonder they ended up with bad jobs.
Besides, in life the way to do better as a business is to improve the system. If you do so, the efficiency will improve much more reliably than if you rely on 'effort.'
Maybe I am just thinking about all this because I am lazy. Well, it's not like my beliefs matter to anyone, why would they want to know about a bias inside my thoughts? Who would even care?
I have been thinking over my quota for the day. I mindlessly passed the remaining time before the bell for my sixth class rang.
I went into the locker room as a pungent smell hit me. I wanted to say that I almost puked, but not even that happened. If the smell was anywhere close to that they would have cleaned it. I just live a boring life, not like those who have experienced truly wretched-smelling things.
I went up to my locker and started changing, it was as noisy as ever. "Hey Alex," I heard Petrov's voice. He was a short kid, one of the popular ones. We were just acquaintances that sat together during the first period. "Hello," I responded plainly.
I chatted a bit and finished changing. I walked outside and walked up and down the hallway. Everyone hangs out further down, they all chat and talk. This made me stand out at first, but no one thinks much of it now. I just walked until the teacher came out.
Soon we went towards the field. We were separated into four teams, with one being for experienced and the other for those who aren't. The requirements were just trying, the inexperienced just loitered around the field.
I was in the experienced group, not like I was that good. I have five years of experience and can't shoot reliably even next to the goal.
I am a good defender, purely because I get in the middle of the opponent's space. I don't know why others don't, maybe it's just one of those things I will never understand.
The opponent came running down the open field so I started running to meet him, everyone on my team went on offense. He quickly slowed down, looks like I have truly gained notoriety. I fall on average five times in the two-hour-long class. Half are from running into others, and the others are from running into the guy with the ball.
I slowed my approach and eventually reached him, he tried to go left, but he moved too fast. I shifted leftward and slammed my leg into the ball between his legs. I hit it awkwardly and only got it from behind him, I went up and got the ball. I started dribbling up the field, and soon I had a view of the goal, a little far. I passed towards a completely open teammate, I missed. It went about thirty degrees off course and passed to a person on the opposing team. They looked shocked and immediately forgot about it and simply sprinted to the goal. My team ended up recovering the ball.
Why do I even bother? I could've just done nothing and been with the inexperienced. Soon a guy came up and told me, "Good job getting the ball, you did great."
Even others can see my mood, just like that the guy left satisfied. It's not like I am that pitiful, I looked towards a guy in the inexperienced group.
He held his head low with his hair long. He was someone who was hurt. He was lively and kind last year, but now he just wears his hat and looks down. I tried to cheer him up at the beginning of the year. But, I do not know if it was due to being the same as him, pity, or just an act to seem like a good person.
Soon class ended, and I went back and changed. As I left the locker I put my sweatshirt on loosely instead of just having an extra burden. I walked back to my car. I got in the white car and drove out.
Before I knew it I was in my house, my parents greeted me as I came inside. I took off my stuff and went over my mental checklist for homework, none.
I immediately walked upstairs and arrived at the shower. I took off my clothes and turned the hot water on.
I stood in the shower for five minutes alone with my thoughts, then I applied soap to my body. Section by section until I finished.
I got out of the shower and dried myself off with a towel and went into my room. Changing into pajamas, I took out my tablet and started reading.
"Dinner!" I heard my father yell, time truly flies. I went down with my tablet in hand, it was pumping mindless YouTube junk straight into my headsets.
My parents talked with my sister and soon dinner finished. I brushed and read until I passed out.
I…
I…
I…
I arrived at math class, more mindless calculations. I am considered gifted in terms of IQ. Along with the fact that I switch schools so that most of the curriculum is just repeated, I have never struggled.
If I apply myself more, everything will work out. I live by this and it has never been wrong.
I felt a headache, is it due to the lack of sleep? Water? Maybe even just a heatstroke.
I passed out.
…
FUCKING HELL! Pain tore through my body, every part felt like it was thrown in a hydraulic press. Who the fuck-
My eyes opened to the cold air and the sight of a blurry figure staring at me lovingly.
Rebirth? There is no way in hell this is a prank, a dream? It's too like real life, I can also feel pain that is nowhere close to any reference I know. How would my brain think of something as foreign as that? Also, I remember reading that the greatest pain people experience is childbirth.
As I took a breath instinctively, I felt suffocated. Mucus and fluid were flooding my lungs. I can't-
Like all other babies, I cried my lungs out. Seriously, it was painful to use my throat after. The good news was that I no longer had liquids clogging my throat.
Every win counts for something. Being cradled in my mother's arms, my eyes adjusted to the new environment.
The small room was filled with wooden carvings of some kind of deities. There was a single woman nearby, most likely the person who... helped deliver me. She looked Celtic with fiery red hair and warm red eyes. She had a healthy tan and surprisingly defined muscles.
Mother only wore a loose white blanket, she seemed to be in her early twenties. Guess they didn't want her clothing to obstruct the birthing and they didn't have medical clothes. She looked completely different from the other woman. She has black hair and purple eyes. In addition, her skin was very pale not even a hint of a tan. It is as if she hadn't gone out a day in her life compared to the other. But, her muscles were somewhat similar to the first. I can't get accurate details but they seemed to be smaller and more defined. The air around her felt enchanted, the perfect picture of a mother.
Another thing I've noticed is that Father has been missing since birth.
Right on cue, Father entered. A creepy wide smile was on his face, as soon as he came in Mother beamed at him with a happy look. "9hv0wdnve!" They started speaking gibberish, guess I won't be able to understand anything for a while.
Looking at my parents animatedly talking, I noticed where I was due to odd the combination. Father was some kind of Viking going by his hair with Mother and the deliverer being Celtic being Celtic. Father had red hair and bright blue eyes being in his early twenties like Mother. Even his muscles were larger and more defined by comparison, but somewhat lacking in front of those crazy muscle builders.
Slowly I felt sleep crawl over my body, it was already a miracle a baby could fully think. I need sleep for brain de-