I was never the "better" child. My brother seemed to have it all- our parents' love, books, toys, attention, and everything anyone can think of. Whenever my brother was even a little sick, family members across the globe would phone us to check if everything was alright. However, even when I was hospitalized and suffering greatly, no one bothered to check. He repeated the same mistake a hundred times? No big deal. My parents forgave him over and over again until it looked like he never made that mistake. It was like they felt as if I was the equivalent of accidentally opening up Microsoft Excel.
But no matter how irrelevant I felt, my brother seemed to have a way of comforting me. He'd always tell me, "Ehh parents have a natural tendency to look out for their first child. Halyn you're awesome . Stay awesome." Those few words were my only motivation to do well in life.
At school, I found myself trying to find any way to get out of class. On the first day of high school, I had joked to my guidance counselor that I would drop out of high school only as a friendly gesture.
Only I knew I wasn't joking.
It wasn't even that I was bullied or had no friends or was failing my classes. Those things don't happen just because. Those things happen when you lose the purpose and motivation in life. But the funny thing is I never even had any purpose or motivation to start with. How could I be acknowledged by the world when my own parents didn't even bother scolding me regarding my falling grades?
I have friends. No, I had friends. No, I will have friends. I mean, I had people here and there to sit at table with during lunch. But while everyone was having conversations with each other, I sat there wondering what I was really worth to them. The end of lunch bell would ring at 10:57 but I always left the cafeteria at 10:40, a mere seven minutes after lunch had started. It happened to be the only time in my day when I could freely think about anything and anyone. Not that I gossiped or anything. From plans of being a successful stock owner to becoming a rockstar, I brainstormed a few million ways to leave school. All I wanted to do was to prove to the world that I was worth the one out of seven billion people breathing the air in this world. But more importantly, I wanted to be the "better" child for just a moment.
As I was walking around the school observing every friendship, I bumped into one of my best friends Jen. As a matter of fact, she seemed to be my only friend. She was the only one who dealt with all my whimsical ideas of being a millionaire and dropping out of school. Seemed. Was. All that was in the past. This whole friendship system, as I liked to call it, happened to be a web with complicated relationships and secret parties. I believe friendships aren't supposed to be like webs, all tangled up; they're supposed to be like naturally pure water. Except only 1% of that stuff exists on this earth. Because of this friendship web and what not, my previous friend Jen got tangled up in this whole mess and long story short, I was left with no friends.
"Hey, Halyn!" Jen exclaimed. This was weird. This was new. She never bothered to approach me first.
"Hi..." my awkward voice replied. Without thinking much, my legs dragged me right past Jen and approximately ten meters away from her. My legs happened to do that to me often. But for certain incidents like these, I didn't mind. I thanked my legs and hurried off to my next class before I was late. Like every other day.
My classes consisted of 45 minute excruciatingly boring talks by the teacher and 12 minutes of my classmates blabbering about their weekend plans. I wish I had weekend plans to blabber about. This routine was what everyone went through; however, I spent the class taking notes of only the essence of the lesson and spent the rest of the period observing and writing the sayings of those around me. I wished to compile all the overheard quotes into one big book. But that was just another one of my whimsical ideas.
After lunch was math, and oh boy, simply put, it was terrible. I'm the type of person to stay up all night confused about the English language and its functions, so how were they expecting me to understand sequences and variables and numbers for a full 57 minutes?! To make matters worse, my teacher had a natural tendency to call out on me when I was clearly doing something else. His name was Mr. Jackson Kellman. I identified teachers by their first and last names because I felt that despite my strong abhorrence for school, teachers were still people and people have first and last names.
"HALYN, WHAT IS THE NEXT STEP?!" Mr. Jackson Kellman scared the hell out of me that even if I knew what the next step was, I would have been unable to answer.
As an honest yet sometimes brutally honest person, I simply stated, "I don't know. Sorry."
Laughter and whispers filled the air and it wasn't the good type of laughter. There are three types of laughter:
Number one- The "wow good job I'm so happy for you" laughter
Number two- The "haha that's a really funny joke" laughter
Number three- The "wow how stupid can you get" laughter
This was the number three laughter. For just a few seconds, my face turned bright red but before I could try redeem myself, Mr. Jackson Kellman screamed into my face, "WELL MAYBE IF YOU WEREN'T SO BORED THEN YOU WOULD PAY ATTENTION. WHAT'S SO BORING HALYN?!"
For the past school year, my answer was always, "Nothing, sir. My bad. I'll just pay attention more." And I ended my apology with a smile.
However, this time, the level on my patience scale had reached the maximum and I answered, "The class itself is boring. Sorry."
I could hear my grades dropping.