I'm Gonna Go Back To School Today (OPEN)

[Sydney Correl]

It's thoughts like
_this_
that catch
my
troubled head
_when you're away_
.

Sydney's neck formed a delicate arch as she watched her cell phone's digital clock change to 11:11 pm. She looked at the sky then. "Make a wish." The simple, happy voice of her mother echoed the sentence in her mind, and she repeated it softly, "Yeah... make a wish." Even as the words slipped from between her lips, she made no wish. She hadn't since she was nine. She hadn't since her mother died. She sat at a space marker near the edge of the lot.

He attire was simple; she wore a dark blue pair of skinny jeans with a pathetically worn pair of black flip flops. A small black tank top fit snugly over her chest and stomach with a partially loose jacket over it. She felt like she probably looked malnourished, but she didn't care; her clothes were comfortable, and that's all that mattered to her. In her pockets, Syd had her house and car keys, some stray cash, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and now her phone as she slipped it in. Her short dark hair fell in a mess around her head, some stray traces of the temporary red highlights visible from certain angles.

Despite the fact that she didn't make a wish, she liked to keep track of the time. She liked to make the choice not to make a wish, rather than just miss the chance. Syd didn't know why, it was just what she preferred. One of those urges she couldn't get rid of. Her eyes quickly scanned the empty parking lot in front of her as she fingered the pack of cigarettes in her pocket. She pulled one cigarette out with her lighter, and stuck the end between her lips. She glanced at the middle school in the close distance before lighting up.

She inhaled, pulled the cig away from her mouth. She exhaled. The smoke glided from her mouth like a ghost between her parted lips. "Ah, sweet rebellion." She sighed softly and looked at the sky again. It looked like a storm was coming. A vision of the parking lot filling with waves of rain water entered her mind. She shut her eyes tight against the image, and it went away before it got any worse. "Maybe I should go home..." The words were aimed at herself, but she didn't move from her perch. Instead, she just lifted the cigarette back to her lips and inhaled again. "...or maybe not."

She had walked here, and she wouldn't have any trouble walking back home again. She just wasn't ready to leave yet. She wasn't done her cigarette, and besides: it wasn't raining yet. She knew she'd probably regret not leaving if it did start raining, but she didn't want to think about that for now. She exhaled the smoke. As if there was a fire in her lungs. It was a shame smoking killed; it was so very beautiful when the light caught it on a dark night. It was painfully artful, graceful. Fitting, she supposed, to be so tragically gorgeous. As if death could be the only price to pay for such deceptive brilliance. She inhaled again.

[Micheal Thomson]

Micheal shouldered his backpack and made his way out of his house. He walked past his mother and father, both seated at the table eating breakfast, ignoring them both. He hadn't spoken to either one of his parents since Marcus had been taken away and he had learnt that his parents had been the ones to report him. If the way he was still feeling now, four months later was any indication of if he would forgive them, then he wouldn't be talking to his parents
for a looong time.

"Micheal..."

He knew his mother's tone of voice by heart and he knew exactly what she would say. Sure enough....

"...you can't go on not talking to us. We were perfectly justified in our decisi-"

Micheal abruptly cut her off.

"You. Killed. My. Best. Friend"

He said each word slowly, with perfect enunciation. His teeth were gritted together in an effort to not explode. He turned towards his mother.

"Oh please, they just needed him for tests, they said he would be returned as soon as they were finished. Besides, he was a horrible influence."

His mother dismissed him like she dismissed everything else he said. Michealls hands balled into fists as he struggled not to hit something.

"HE WAS MY FRIEND!"

Micheal surprised himself as the words left his mouth in a roar. His mother and father both looked up from their meal. His fathers eyes were tired. His mothers were cold steel. She folded up her napkin, threw it down on her plate and stood up in one fluid motion.

"He was infected! and he deserved everything he got! Him and his disease. You are going to thank me someday for everything I've done!"

At this her hand came up so quick, you wouldn't have been sure it had even happened if not for the loud smack that resonated in the silent kitchen.

"and don't you ever raise your voice at me again. Do I make myself clear?"

Micheal felt his cheek as the sharp sting faded. A bright red hand print was already becoming apparent. His eyes hardened as he stepped up to his mother, so close that when he looked down and she looked up, there noses were practically touching. His mother didn't flinch back but instead stared back, her eyes as cold as his. When he spoke, his voice matched his eyes, cold and deadly. He spoke low, a little over a whisper.

"I hate you"

He turned and left, slamming the door behind him. He straddled his bike and pedaled to school in record time, his anger fueling him. He chained his bike to the bike rack and made his way across the parking lot. His first class wasn't until 11:30 due to his petition but that was a different story for another time. He stopped when he saw a girl with her back to him, sitting on the curb. He inched closer, his footsteps silent as he approached. He looked up shortly and noticed the rain clouds. By the looks of them it was going to rain and soon. He heard her muttering to herself, something about 11:11 and making wishes. He saw she didn't make one and voiced his opinion.

"you didn't make a wish"

He mentally kicked himself in the head. Good going Mr. Obvious.

[Sydney Correl]

Would I spend
forever
here and not be
satisfied?

Syd was thankful that her first instinct when she was startled was to freeze rather than jump or scream. She turned her head to stare up at the boy whose voice had caught her by surprise. His hair was chocolate brown, shaggy as it hung, with warm brown eyes to match. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder, and he looked to be no older than her. He was well built and tall, though she could only guess at his actual height because of the mutated view she had from her perch.

Sydney exhaled slowly, blowing the smoke toward him. “You’re clever, aren’t you? Did you figure that out all by your lonesome?” The sarcasm practically dripped from her words as she looked him up and down absentmindedly. A bit more gently, she added, “I never wish anymore,” meaning at 11:11, at the sight of a shooting star, or at the blowing out of birthday candles.

She turned back away from him, looking once again toward the school. “Who are you anyway?” she questioned without looking at him. She slouched where she sat, leaning over and resting her pointy elbows on her knees, relaxed. “And what possessed you so as to cause the start of a conversation with a bad influence such as myself?” She took another drag on the cig, as if to prove her point.

”Even just sticking around listening to me for as long as you have could cause both some serious brain cell loss and a shortage of your lifespan. Secondhand smoke kills 500,000 a year, you know,” she stated as if she had any idea what she was saying. She brought the cigarette to her lips one last time as it neared the end of its own lifespan, and then leaned forward and crushed the edge against the ground. She turned, staring at the boy once more.

[Micheal Thomson]

"you're clever aren't you? did you figure that out all by your lonesome?"

Micheal stared down at the girl and grinned. Girl had a sense of humor, a sarcastic one by the looks of it. Kind of reminded him of Marcus. He let out a small laugh and dropped down next to her, allowing his backpack to slide off his shoulder and fall to the ground next to him. He had a few minutes to kill before class. He studied her face for a few seconds and noted that he'd never really seen her around before. He doubted she was new...how many new kids did YOU see skipping class?

"I never wish anymore"

He looked down at his shoes when she said this. He definitely knew the feeling. By her tone of voice he was guessing she'd been through some kind of crap. He recognized that tone, he had the same one when he recalled Marcus, when he spoke about his parents.

"Who are you anyways?"

Micheal grinned his trademark widetoothed smile and stuck his hand out.

"Micheal Thompson at your service. and what might your name be?"

He laughed again at her comments about being a bad influence and ruining his health. She definitely hadn't been around for awhile. If she had, she would have known who he was. She would have known to stay away. The nerds didn't even speak to him because of his reputation. He would have been beaten up ages ago had it not been for him being in excellent shape from breakdancing. The jocks were way too intimidated by the muscles to actually do anything other than call him names.

"Bad influence? You're a harmless little pixy with a burning desire to put smoke in your lungs, one plant wrapped in paper stick at a time but hey-"

He shruged.

"that's your decision"

He grinned to let her know he was kidding...sort of. He looked out towards the school.

"and the way I see it...I've already had my brain fried, tagged and bagged at this place they try and call a school so I figure what's a few more dead brain cells right?"

He turned to look at her and grinned again. He was always grinning, laughing or smiling. It was a defense mechanism that he'd never gotten over.

[Sydney Correl]

If joy really comes
in the morning time,
then I'm gonna sit back
and wait until
the
next sun rise.

She blinked a his hand for a moment before carefully putting her own out to meet it. Her grasp was firm but fragile, and her hand looked tiny against his giant palm. "Syd. I'm Syd Correl. That's my name." Sydney half-smiled. With Micheal's huge smile in place, it was hard for her not to. Kids with senses of humor weren't that easy to find, and here was one right in front of her. Not to mention, he was nice on the eyes.

"Damn right it's my decision," she practically mumbled the words to herself, "though that wasn't the only thing I was referring to when I called myself a bad influence." She smiled at him again. He talked about his brain being "fried, tagged, and bagged" and she let a small laugh escape as she looked back out towards the school. "Right... Far as I see it, better to do without. But it's best not to listen to me." Syd spoke the last sentence in a falsely cheery voice that was an octave higher than her regular voice. She nodded mock seriously to add to the effect.

She looked back at him and noticed him grinning again. "You sure do smile a lot," her voice wasn't so much accusatory as factual. He reminded her of her mother when they were going through the divorce. She used to always smile and laugh with Syd, but when she thought she was alone, her guard wasn't up so much. Sydney remembered peeking through a crack in the doorway and seeing her mother sitting on the bed. She wasn't crying, but she appeared to be older, and sad. Sydney never saw her mother cry, but she didn't need to see it to know that she was upset. The hard, persistent smile gave it all away to Sydney.

She didn't move on that thought though. She could be wrong, and she didn't really need to know why he smiled so much. Maybe he really was just enjoying life. She smiled softly and continued, "Anyway," It had only been a second since her last statement, "What kind of people do you normally hang around with to think I'm not a bad influence?" She questioned him curiously. He had a backpack and was obviously planning to go to class, so he couldn't have been a much worse influence than her, but who did he know that pushed her to the level of a decent influence?