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by RL Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Campfire Creative · Appendix · Music · #1543175
Chapter 1..more coming
[Introduction]
Introduction to the Masses
People are fake, their only as real as you make them. They only have a soul, if you want them to.
School is just something to occupy the inside of my skull during the day. People say it will expand my mind…. I don’t think so.
I would much rather be staring into the sun, an acoustic guitar strung along my chest, or yelling into the mirror, with a worn, old, and dead microphone wrapped tightly against my forearm.
Even now, Calculus 489 isn’t my idea of a good time, I’ve been through this class a time and time again. Instead I stare out the high rise window, my head tilted so all I see is the sun reflecting on the glass. I wonder what it’s like in the sky, maybe what my dream last night meant. What a world would be like, where everyone smiled, held the door open, a mystical place where people lived for the now, for the day, for the sun.
But no, I am very far from this love fest, imaginary world. I am here, in Oakland California, listening to my teacher babble on and on about how she wants to get to know each and everyone of us, before the semesters over and we all graduate… Finally!
I laugh to myself, she wants to know me, try to understand me? I don’t think anyone could do that. Worst thing about first day of the new semester… those awful ‘About me’ surveys, when really they want to see how strange or gifted, or socially retarded we really are.
Oooppp, here it comes, the survey…
1. What do you wish to learn in my class?
… to sleep with my eyes open!


2. Have you taken this class previously?
Yes 2 times

3. Name and Birthday.
Liam Cain, July 29, 1990

4. Your favorite thing about school?
No comment

5. What do you do during your spare time?
Play guitar for a band, Promote venues and bands, stage Tech, your mom.

6. Favorite TV show?
Cant afford a TV

7. Favorite Band
Everything in Between Freddie Mercury, Sex Pistols, Green Day, and Marilyn Manson.

8. Meet anyone dead or alive?
Kurt Cobain

9. What do you want to be when you grow up?
… I will find out one day.

….. This is when I fill out false information about my phone number and address, because really they change almost every month. I can’t write down my best friends couch, or the backseat of my car as a residence.
I love how teachers want to know which celebrity you would want to swoon and grovel to the ground for. Most kids my age want to meet playboy bunnies, hoping to get a tiny kiss on the check. Maybe meet the singer for Nickleback, with his white hair and black face hair…. It’s a little creepy. Most of the teacher’s pets put famous writers, painters, or Jesus, hoping to chat afterwards about whose work is the best. And who can forget about The Jonas Brothers and Miley Cyrus, their up on everyone’s lists.
“Mr. Cain…. You would want to meet Kurt Cobain?”
This surprised me, usually most teachers know I’ve taken this awful class far too many times, and they are understanding and let me daydream to my minds content. She must have not gotten to the “Do your mom” part. I managed to look her in the face and try to give her a “WHAT THE F!” look.
“Yes… that’s who I would like to meet if I could meet anyone dead or alive”
“I remember when he died…my daughter was very upset, it was very sad…. And Hannah, you would want to meet Orlando Bloom?” Ms. Reid continued on.
Ahh, how right am I… I couldn’t handle much more of this shit, and excused myself to go to the bathroom. But took the time to stand up and pack my messenger bag, put my coat on, and my hat. To make it very clear I was leaving, not headed to the bathroom.
“Mr. Cain, feel free to leave your items, as you will be returning” Ms. Reid said
“NO Thanks” I said as I headed for the door.
God, can people really be that blind, stupid, ignorant, and just simply…. ugg cant even think of another metaphor for ‘dumbass’. That’s right pick on the ‘Slacker’, pick on me because I don’t look like you and your American dream. When she had no idea that I was only placed in the class because I was a F’n math genius. She probably thought I was seriously Fucked up, wearing duct tape Chucks, skinny jeans, and I haven’t cut my hair in a year. Who was she to judge, pha!! make me pay attention. Study hall was my next class, but all we really did was lie underneath the tall oak trees in our schools courtyard. My school looked more like a campus, with multiple tall building, sidewalks, huge courtyards, and it was recognized as one of the best public schools in California.
I settled myself underneath a large shade tree and decided to falsely fill out some of those parent guardian forms, you get so many of them the first day of the semester. It always made me a little anxious, maybe a little angry. Because I didn’t have a guardian, they have forgotten I even still exist, maybe they remember me on Christmas, maybe during my birthday, but that’s was IF they cared. This year my made up guardian was going to go by Charlie Pactora…phone number 666-6666…Residence 007….
I was blinded
“Pactora huh? I swear you have used that one before?”
The darkness subsided and sun filled my eyes yet again, and Caitlin sat inches from my face, her hair a little bigger than I saw it this morning….
“Dan liked my Ramones shirt! He said his dad saw them back in the 80’s”
“I doubt he has any idea who they are Caitlin, he just likes to stare at you shirt” I said.
“Liam your so bad, you don’t know that, how was your advanced Math…again?”
“Awful, those stupid surveys, the teacher decided to call on me, so I left.”
“On the first day!! Your going to be on her list!” Caitlin said with a look of disappointment.
“Hah, like I care, you can take my place if you want?”
“No thanks, I would never understand that shit….ever!” Caitlin laughed
We sat in silence for a couple moments, she shuffled through her purse to find an ipod and a water bottle. She shoved the dog chewed ear piece down my ear explaining how I have to listen to this band she discovered in Washington over this summer, I wasn’t going to protest. She rested her head against my stomach and closed her eyes to escape to the music.
I wish this could last forever, eternity, was their such a thing as eternity? OH how I wish my mind had an off switch, would eternity be filled with white clouds, floating mystical animals, peace, or the opposite of a dark black hole with a peephole to the outside world… maybe we were already there.

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