Sharing Scars [Lex Parsimoniae x Lost] ~CLOSED

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Thomaz M., Jul 21, 2015.

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  1. Coat, check; Cellphone, check; Notebooks, check; Case, check; Overwhelming desire to crash back in bed and pretend the world outside my window imploded, check. I mean, sarcastic jokes aside, I'm really, really not in the mood to leave. Not that I usually am, but still, I'm not sure, today feels different. I blame the weather. It's started snowing last night, and hasn't stopped still. We're not dealing with a blizzard here, so, school is still up, "thankfully". Nonchalantly, I leave through the front door, faintly warning my uncle about my departure before closing the door behind me. The streets painted with white, and light shades of grey are oddly calming. A true british-man, embracing its soil as if it was permafrost and its clouds as if a lake itself was watching over him.

    The walk between my home and my school isn't all that far, usually taking about ten minutes. The neighborhood isn't noisy, the streets aren't too crowded, it would be unfair to call this path, this walk an annoyance. In my case in particular, it's purely about what lies beyond it. It's like I can almost hear their voices already. It's like walking face-to-face to a really strong stream of wind. My body refuses, my mind used to reject the idea, until he died. Seeing the reaper through a mirror was enough for all the arguments I ever had to disappear, in a small poof. If they're still there, there's something in me now willing to accept that they are simply wrong. For whatever reason. I need time to think. Time away from the noise. Every second I can get.

    About twelve, thirteen minutes of walking, I arrived. The voices, loud as usual, greet me a few steeps before the front gate, even through my headphones. The chaos within those sentences, the lack of coherence, the self-centered attitudes, I really can't stop wondering how Chris lived with this, everyday, and still keep a smile on his face. I rush to classroom, as usual, the minutes before the teacher, or the "peace-maker", as I like to him, comes are heart-racing. Following my routine, I sit anywhere in the middle of the class, aiming for the left, closer to the doorway. Putting my bag under the table, I put on something from the Blue Oyster Cult on my phone and wait, head laid upon my arms, crossed, on top of the desk, waiting.
  2. I had always loved the snow. Especially the first snow of the season which was powdery and new. To me it represented winter, Christmas, the holiday season which I had adored since I was a child. The colorful lights hanging from the small shops downtown brightened my mood on my walks to and from school. In fact, I lived above one of those very shops in a small apartment. I worked in the bakery below in order to keep up with my rent and while I wasn't working I was at school. A new school. I had started at the beginning of the year like everyone else but I was new and it seemed like everyone had already known one another for ages. It was safe to say I was an outsider.

    Thankfully since then things had changed and I now had some friends, some acquaintances and just people to get along with. I didn't listen to the things that were said about me. I ignored them the best that I could. I had done a very good job so far and today was just another day, go to school, work, do homework and sleep.

    Stepping into school the heater immediately assaulted me with hot hair and my eyes fluttered shut, hat almost toppling from my head. I quickly grabbed it before it fell to the ground and dirtied. Shoving it into the pocket of my dark jacket I made my way to class. Upon arrival the teacher stopped me to let me know that I was no longer enrolled in his class and would move to another. Very surprised by this I nodded and made a mental note about the new teachers name. I had heard that name before and sort of knew where the classroom was. Noticing I did not have much time I ran across the school and just made it in time before the door was shut and class commenced.

    The only seat left open was near the middle by a young man with his head on his arms and earbuds plugged into his ears. Taking my seat I shrugged off my jacket and took out my notebook and text, glancing over at him again. My brow raised some. I had never laid eyes on you before and I thought I had at least seen everyone who attended here. Apparently I was wrong. I offered a gentle smile and my attention was immediately brought to the front of the room where the teacher was beginning the lesson.
  3. "Don't Fear the Reaper" is such an oddly charming song, I can't quite label it. Vintage, soft, with a fresh beat, adorably morbid lyrics, it really is a special package. Though, wasn't long before I start drowning even further down into the "critic" mood, that I caught a glimpse at something new, unexpected. Ironic. A smile, from a young lady I can't say I've ever noticed before. Just a gentle, barely meaningless smile, a polite act, expecting nothing in return. That was certainly unexpected, however, I may as well be just over-analyzing it. It's nothing but a "good morning" I've heard countless times before, transmitted quickly, and best of all: Quietly. Yeah, I'll keep it at that.

    Down to the physical level, I was reactionless, I clearly noticed the smile, but I just barely replied to it. I waved faintly with my right hand, the "moving fingers from one side to another in a snap" wave, and then, as the crowded steps began to be subside, giving place to the equally lovable crowded conversations, the familiar, orderly, soft steps emerge as a inducer of a peace treaty. The teacher proceeded to introduce himself, and very briefly the "new girl", ironically enough, the one located to my right, as "Isabella Travis", without much more detail. The amount of eyes directed into her direction and subconsciously to mine was slightly overwhelming. Strangely overwhelming. I've noticed she's good looking and all, but, those eyes weren't of appreciation. I couldn't quite tackle what it was exactly, but it definitely wasn't too too positive. I grasped a few neutral ones, similar to mine, but they were so out of place, they seemed... Uninformed.

    The class proceeded its routine as usual, and after what felt like years, the bell rang. I sighed, the only physical manifestation that I was breathing throughout the day, a indistinct, almost ill-defined sigh. I grasped a small dark-ish grey notebook out of my bag together with my phone and headphones and walked off towards the hallway, using the cold weather as an excuse to put my hoodie on, enough to cover my ears. Tracking my way down the halls, I've managed to find a bench away from the tribes, or "social groups", if you're not familiar with my synonyms. The view was quite nice, as well. The grass from the patio was starting to form a thin layer of snow on top itself, the clouds have few clearance spots, displaying faint layers of sunshine. Never knew I'd find someone in this prison to relax. Putting my headphones back on, I've placed the notebook on the top of the table, scribbling, waiting patiently for the next bell to ring.
    #3 Thomaz M., Jul 21, 2015
    Last edited: Jul 22, 2015
  4. The morning flew by faster than I could have ever imagined and by that time my tummy was rumbling and I was a bit embarrassed by it. I began the long walk down the hallway where I met up with two of my closer friends, Ella and Mary Anne. We walked and talked with one another as we entered the lunch room, looking around for somewhere to sit. My eyes fell on the boy from my first class and I nudged Mary Anne in the ribs with my elbow. "Do you know who he is?" I ask softly and watch as her brown eyes gazed over at him and her brows furrowed together.

    "I think his name is Lex... I don't really know much about him but he is super quiet and always has his earphones in." She replied while stopping at a table that was open. Ella was looking at him too and she added softly, "I think he was friends with Chris...." Both girls looked down at the mention of the name and began to open their lunches.

    I had heard the name Chris every now and then and realized that this school must be smaller than I realized. Everyone knew each other at least somewhat and I had never known this Chris. What I had learned about him was that he had passed away. I could only imagine what someone went through when losing someone that they were close to or cared about. "That's so sad." I frowned and took a seat across from the other two, looking down at my bag. Every now and then I would shoot a glance towards this 'Lex.' He intrigued me.
  5. This cold, plus the surprisingly relaxing atmosphere were making the lazy side of me really roar, or may I say, yawn. Writing down random excerpts, while entertaining, really is tiresome for the mind. I close the notebook upon the table, giving myself time to gaze my surroundings, letting in the soundtrack that completely covered my eardrums. It wasn't every day that I did this. Usually, tying the faces to voices isn't what I'd call a pleasant activity. That's all I could take from the prison's, or the school's landscape. Peculiarly, today was different. Looking around I didn't see faces, the reflections that I so deeply avoid. I saw, peace. I can't tell why, but, without being nonchalant to myself, I could tie this feeling to that smile. Such an idiot, vague gesture, but something in me wanted to appreciate it. That something was distracting me. Clearing my "cloudy view". Or so I assume.

    While, inadvertently looking around, I happen to recognize the girl sitting next to me from a distance. It was a glance, but my vision has always been sharp. She was looking at me, I think. A curious-filled glance. Intriguing, to say the least. My gaze held composure for a little over a second, before I decided stood up, driving my mind onto something else. A few minutes left until the next bell rang. Deciding I've taken enough fresh air for the day, I grabbed my notebook and left, towards the classroom. It's a way to avoid the "post-bell" crowd on the halls, and I've always found an empty classroom relaxing. The soul-crushing ambiance, substituted by a soothing, serene peace. The classroom, as usual, considering the time, was empty. I sit on my desk, placing the notebook under me, as I lay my head on the empty area of the desk, using my arm as a pillow of sorts. The bell will either wake me, or warn me of the crowd's arrival, ergo, I usually don't worry. Lowering the volume slightly, I began waiting. Ten more minutes, I believe.
    #5 Thomaz M., Jul 22, 2015
    Last edited: Jul 25, 2015
  6. As lunch ended I was approached yet again by one of the teachers who informed that I had been switched into a new class yet again this afternoon. Apparently they wanted me in what were considered the harder and more strenuous courses because of my grades on previous tests. Not wanting to cause a scene I nodded and took the new schedule that was offered to me. There were a few new names typed out in small print that I did not recognize but if I began my search I would find my next classroom and head that way. I wished Ella and Mary Anne a pleasant afternoon before beginning down the halls to find classroom 108.

    It was not a long search and I found it in no time. Currently there were a few students spread out around the classroom looking bored. Some were reading while others were talking quietly. A few looked like they were already doing the next assignment. Frowning my eyes fell on the mysterious boy with his headphones still plugged into his ears. His head was down again and the seat next to him was open so I decided to take a chance and take a sit next to him. Placing my bag gently on the floor I made myself comfortable and glanced to Lex with a very curious expression. On a whim I reached out and gently poked his arm some, waiting to see if he was even still alive. For all our sakes I hoped he was.
  7. I could almost feel my arm twitch. A touch, a gentle poke. Right when I was in the edge of falling asleep, of all times. I opened one of my eyes, the one sided to the person who poked me. It took no longer than a few seconds for my vision to get back used to lighting in the room, a big flash, reduced to a ever-so-sharper silhouette. The girl. Isabella, wasn't it? I sighed, as internally as I could, as the urge to hit my head against the desk a few times started feeling more real than it should. I looked around her and myself, as if asking if I really was the target of her attention. Her direct gaze at me should've answered that beforehand, but I don't know, call it denial or whatever. I removed one of the headphones, again, the one sided to her, as if asking, indirectly, what she wanted.

    I'm almost expecting a prank of sorts to be played here, or a stereotypical movie bully with a carton of eggs in his hands to show up out of nowhere once she tries to get me out of here to "some place quieter", either that or she lost a bet, maybe a initiation ritual from one of the tribes, I can't tell. Her eyes, though. She's either a psychopath or an incredibly good actress, or the last plausible option, she's legitimately intrigued about something. About me, so it seems. Yeah, this is definitely a prank.
    #7 Thomaz M., Jul 23, 2015
    Last edited: Jul 25, 2015
  8. "Uh, hi.." Now that I have your attention my mind sort of freezes up and my mouth isn't so sure it that can form words. Maybe because I really didn't have much to say about anything at the moment. Finally before the silence gets to weird I offer him a polite smile and reach out my hand so that he can shake it if he would like. "My name is Isabela. Pleased to meet you."

    It couldn't hurt to be polite. One thing I had taken away from my time growing up was that being polite would get you a long way. So, I would do my best to keep those ideals thriving. Whilst waiting for any answer from him I let my eyes study his face beginning at his lips. They then flitted along his jaw, taking in his nose and then meeting his eyes. In a way he was incredibly handsome and it made my stomach do an odd flippy thing. I would investigate that more later.
  9. Her voice. It reminds me of someone, I can't quite tackle who. It's soft, averagely high-pitched, enough to match her appearance almost perfectly, I'd say. Any other detail aside, the suddenness in her words, in this whole situation in a whole really was bothering me. Avoiding making my teeth grind at the interaction, I swallow dry, brow involuntarily raised. Fair amount of time since I was this intimidated by someone's presence, weird feeling. Realizing I've been silent for about two, three second, I raise my hand, shaking hers, as politely as I assumed someone would.


    I couldn't be more clueless on how to reply, I assumed she wanted a name, so I gave it to her. Full name would be too formal, no name would be impolite. Alright, got that figured out -- now what? It really has been long enough since I've introduced myself to someone new for me to completely forget how to do it. I compulsorily maintained eye-contact, tinted with curiosity. Rather than intimidated, I'm slowly growing more and more curious. In the one instance I did drifted my eyesight away was to placing my headphones to my shoulder. She did want my attention, correct? I look back at her, noticing how lost she was in words.

    -"Pleasure is all mine, I suppose."
  10. "You were in Mr. Oliver's class with me earlier today. I'm not sure if you remember that.... But, um... He assigned us a project that we have to work on with a partner or two. I was just curious if you had a partner or not? I was thinking that we could possibly work together to come up with something for it." Good save, Bela... I thought to myself. But he could easily shoot me down now, that certainly was a possibility. If he did then I would not press him anymore. At least for today.

    Other students began to file into the class and I knew that our window of being able to speak with one another was very limited now because the teacher would be walking in to start the lesson at any minute. I really hoped that he would say yes because then I could not only get to know him better but we would get a good grade on the project. From what I could tell, Lex was a smart boy and having his help on a project certainly would not hurt my chances of getting an A.
  11. -"Uh."

    Nice, Lex. Beautiful progression.

    -"I was probably asleep when he said that." -I broke eye-contact, focusing on the table- "I guess that's fine, you seem smart."

    Smooth as broken vinyl. Self-pity aside, I've gotta say: Her eyes... They started feeling like straight-up spotlights after a few seconds. Not pleasant at all when you are the type who likes to live under the shadows, like myself. And honestly, it's been at least a few months since I've talked to someone my age, my non-existent social skills are rusty, what can I say. I really didn't recall the teacher, which I just now discovered the name to be "Mr. Oliver", giving the announcement. I don't remember falling asleep either, which is odd. In her defense, I was probably zoned out, thinking about something else, or something among those lines. And, thinking back, smart wasn't the best of compliments. I don't know, humans are weird. She could've taken that as if I was calling her a "nerd" or whatever, I don't know. Should I call her pretty or something? I wouldn't be lying, but then again, straightforwardness is one thing, being creepy is another, and even I know the difference between the two. A little bit.

    -"So, how are-" -I stopped myself, middle sentence. Reminding myself of that fact that projects are usually done in one partner's house. Realizing the sudden break, I shook my head of the thoughts and continued as best as I could- "doing this?"

    Dull response, enough room for interpretation. That works.
  12. Well, I would take that. Seemingly smart was much better than stupid. Nodding my eyes flickered down to the planner on top of my desk and I opened it up, searching for something inside. "I was thinking that maybe we could meet up this weekend? We could go to the library or my place or somewhere else? There is a cute coffee shop down the street from my apartment that we could always go and visit... Just let me know what works for you okay?" I needed to stop talking. Inside my bag I plucked out a blue pen and had it waiting in case he answered any of the various questions I had just posed in the flurry of words that had completely rushed out of my mouth.

    "If you don't have an answer yet, that's fine. You can give me one tomorrow." I wasn't looking at him anymore, just doodling little random things in the margins of my planner. I had stared at this poor kid enough for one day and I didn't want to frighten him out of being my partner for this project. Everyone else had a partner and would be embarrassing to be dumped by the only other person who did not have one.
  13. I could've said no, couldn't I? Denial has always been quite the shield for these types of situations. Specially from the deceptions they tend to bring later. Depressing, I know. But it's true, just is. I sighed, as internally as I could. That "what did I just drag myself into" sigh. I'm too deep into now, and good lord, not even I am this cold-hearted. She's being as polite as one could be, and, as paradoxical as that may sound- I can't help but hate it, really. Makes it harder to come up with an excuse to avoid all this, if I were to do it. To escape this grave I dug for myself. I glanced at her after she finished speaking, pondering what to say for a good five, ten seconds.

    -"Uh-um..."-I swallowed dry, buying myself some more time to think-"I don't have anything that urgent in my agenda for the last few days, I don't think."- I swiped through the notebook's pages jokingly, as if that was my agenda.

    I don't even own an agenda. I never bloody did. A stream of "why"s completely flooded my head. I smelt disaster, blame my blatant pessimism. Well, at least we aren't considering going to each other's houses. I mean, that is what people usually do in these situations, isn't it? Hell if I knew. All things considered though, we did just met. I would be even more surprised if she invited me, actually. I really need to vent these thoughts away. They're too superficial for my taste, as condescending as that sounds. I shook my head lightly, breaking eye contact again, tapping my fingers against the table without a specific rhythm in mind. Borderline pathetic how I can't keep my eyes on hers for more than a few seconds before I succumb to the need to look away.

    -"So, coffee shop. Do you have an address or anything like that? A date?"

    My tongue is playing classical, my mind is blasting off a Nordic satanic death metal band at highest volume. This is confusing, even to me. I glance at her fingers, scribbling mostly nonsense onto to a paper in her desk. It hurts me to say this, but the only explanation is that a part of me isn't too antagonistic to the idea of company. Which in itself is even more confusing, to be honest.
    #13 Thomaz M., Aug 3, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 4, 2015
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