Fiction: “Unexpected Places” – Part 4

AUTHOR’S NOTE: The following is a weekly series that will be continued throughout most of the year. This story is completely fictional and none of the events in this story are real. I hope you enjoy the story!

I entered the school and gave the place a good long stare. It’s finally time to find out why the school is like that to me, but to be completely honest I didn’t even have the slightest idea for a game plan. Just walking in there and screaming at everyone isn’t going to help, nor is just sitting there and letting everything play out. I gotta come up with a game plan. What I know is that students ignore and stare at me, staff are helpful, the only proper conversation I had are with the principal and the teacher. Alright, so I have to start with the principal, then see what I can get out of the teacher and students.

Inside the principal’s office is what you would call girly, very girly. Pink wallpaper, teddy bears, little girl tea sets and any other imaginable thing that a little girl would play with. It honestly overwhelmed me. After ignoring the fact, that the principal was sitting on her pink chair reading, I sat down on one of the two chairs in front of her pink desk. She turned around to look at me. She placed down her book (pink by the way), and asked why I came to see her.

I said, “So, I don’t know if you’ve noticed when you have me a tour and introduced me to my class, but it seems that students don’t like me. I mean all they do is just stare and look away to talk amongst themselves. It gets quite irritating you know. I didn’t want to snitch but I just wanted to find out if you knew the reason why.”

She looked at me for a second then said, “Why don’t you ask them yourself.”

“I would, but I need to hear what you have to say first, to know beforehand, you know, as to the reason why.”

She looked at me for a second and said, “I have no idea, if you would like, go find out yourself.”

Then, she ushered me out of her office and closed the door. I was now more confused before I came. It looked as if the principal knew something, she doesn’t want to say it, and she tried to end the conversation as fast as possible. Damn it. My luck is atrocious. Well, the next choice is in the classroom.

I stepped into the classroom and without a doubt the class immediately got quiet. Without saying a word I sat at my seat, but the eyes of many seemed as if they were cast on me and cannot be taken off me. I felt as if everything and anything that I did, that moment, was going to be a topic about me that could spread like a wildfire. Knowing that trying to scream or make a scene doesn’t seem it would go too far. Trying to talk to the teacher and talking about the kids in the classroom is also off the table. The last thing I want is the class to think that I am some type of snitch or loser. It was already bad as it is. Knowing all that, the only people I could talk about were the people near my desk. Sure, they hate me too, but it’s the only people I can really bother. It’s not like they can hate me anymore anyway.

The girl and boy enter and sit next to me before class starts. They looked happy coming into the classroom, and without any doubt, the moment they see me their happy expressions are buried. As the class’s lesson starts and ends, we were given work to do as a group. The teacher who seemed oblivious about my situation decided to pair me up with the girl and boy sitting next to me. If anyone else was there, you could see the utter disgust and hatred on their faces. With no other choice, we move our desks to face each other. More precisely, the boy’s desk facing the girl’s with me on the edge. That move by the two classmates crossed my line. In my head, I was about to let a nuke out of my mouth. I was going to scream at the class so hard that it would make the class quieter than when they saw me.

Scary me who doesn’t have any guts decided to say, “Why do you hate me?” in a very calm tone. They both looked at me, then looked away. “Have I done anything to you?”.

I get no response. I ask, “Will you talk to me?”. I don’t get a reaction. “Then don’t, but at least tell me why you or the others won’t talk to me. I deserve that much!”

The class looked at me. “It’s nothing, nothing really,” I said to the class.

The two after talking to each other look at me and say, “Reason 1: the place you live, Reason 2: the people that live there”.

Then they look away and go back to work. Okay, wait, so this has nothing to do with me but with grandpa and grandma? The thought of people hating them to the point where they would also hate me for it was kind of weird and shocking. Those two grandparents of mine were nothing but soft and nice.

Then the boy stated, “The house is not normal.”

He then proceeds to hand me a book name with the bar code number on it. It seemed that the book is in the local library. The bell rung, and as I pack my bag, I put the note in my pocket and left to go to my next class.

As school finally ended I head home. As I walk up the driveway my grandpa was at the porch waiting for me. It wasn’t unusual for him to do that but after hearing that people hate me because I live with grandpa, made me feel a little more alert around him. As I approach him, he asked me the usual’s. How is school and if I was getting along with everyone. I quickly answer with a “great” and ask if I could go to the local library with him. I told him that I wanted to see what this area had to do for fun and that I wanted to start with the library. He happily agreed and before I knew it I was in the car in front of the library.

As I entered the building the noise of kids playing and book pages being turned was imminent. Just like how a library should be. Modern, a community area and welcoming. Not knowing how the library worked I head to the front desk. The librarian and I exchange hello’s and I ask if she is willing to help me. She nodded and I handed her the note I got from the boy. She looked up from the note and gave me a good long look. She then proceeds to get up and shows me the way.

As we cross hundreds of books, we came upon the section, local non-fiction. There were only about 10-20 books in this section but boy was each book huge. They each had to have at least 600 pages each. The librarian then takes out a book and hands it to me.

She then says, “If you ever need any help, just come and ask!” Then leaves with a quick smile.

The book’s name: “Unexpected.”



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