I woke to the sound of heavy J-Rock blasting my eardrums. Grasping urgently for my mobile phone, I picked it up from the floor and pressed a button at random. Thanking God the noise stopped, I gazed blearily at the screen: “You have (1) New Message!” I pressed the top-left button to open the message and stared blankly at the screen for a few seconds before realising its contents. Deciding not to read it out loud, I ran it through my head a few times before it truly sunk in. Fantastic. Another morning woken up by hate mail. But then, why break tradition?
I looked at my clock radio, noticing that despite the obvious intent behind the message, it had woke me up perfectly on time. I rummaged in my drawers, pulling out some underwear and socks blindly, and pulled them on. Sliding out of bed, I walked over to my wardrobe, rubbing my eyes, and opened it, devouring its contents. Let’s see… for school today I had Black, Black, Purple, Crimson or Black. I picked out my Black shirt, combining it with a Red tie, and pulled on some Black trousers. Just because no-one else made an effort, didn’t mean I had to look idiotic too.
I made my way slowly downstairs, and into the kitchen. Putting two slices of bread into the toaster, I grabbed my lunch-box and started packing. Not much use, as it’d all be thrown away by lunchtime, but it kept my parents happy. I finished packing as the toast popped up, and grabbed some butter from the fridge. Spreading it thickly on the toast, I grabbed a plate and took it through to the living room, and sat down on the sofa. I slowly ate the toast, looking at the clock every few seconds. Each second I wasted was one I’d never get back, one closer I’d be to school. I finished a slice, then put my plate to the side. I wasn’t hungry. Or rather, I was, but I couldn’t eat it. I never could.
I put my plate in the kitchen and head back upstairs. I brushed my teeth, checking the time on my phone. I had ten minutes. Heading back into my room, I switched on my computer and, by extension, brought up iTunes. Putting on some more J-Rock, I checked my internet accounts as quickly as I could. As “Zetsubou Billy” died away, I knew my time was up. Switching off the computer, I rushed downstairs and darted through my jacket pockets. Finding a comb and my eyeliner, I tamed my hair and applied the eyeliner, thin but dark. Satisfied, I grabbed my phone and keys, dropping the eyeliner into my trouser pocket, and left the house, my school bag heavy against my back.
As per the routine, I walked to school alone. I was glad to; I could find time to contemplate things when I was alone, and the bitter, winter air braced me for the day ahead. As per the routine, I arrived at school just as the bell rang, and was able to avoid many comments from my peers. As per the routine, I walked into my tutor room unnoticed, my straight black hair hiding most of my face, and took my seat in the corner of the room.
After registration, I sneaked quickly through the corridors to avoid attention, finding my way to first lesson: Drama. I enjoyed Drama, it allowed me to get rid of any negative feelings I had, but of course, putting effort into a subject drew attention. All I got were glares, though, as the teacher never left the room. I managed to keep the teacher talking for a while, before heading into group work, which bought me some time. The group work did come, however, and as usual I was stuck with the single-line role. “What? Oh my!” was all I said for the rest of the lesson, but I didn’t mind too much. I was dealing with it.
Second lesson came too soon. As much as I love History and as much as the teacher is fantastic, it’s the one lesson I have where I get positive attention… from the wrong sort of person. “Oh, hello Vivi! Nice weekend?” I smiled briefly back at the clingy, irritating boy as he dropped his bag beside me. “Oh, thanks Matthew, it was okay…” I flicked my hair out of my eyes, purposely showing off my eyeliner. “Oh, I really don’t think you should wear that stuff, it-“ The teacher shouted above the noise. Asked everyone to please shut up. Matthew did just that. I knew this scheme like the back of my hand, another daily routine.