Speak Of The Devil

November 29, 2009
By InkRavens GOLD, Rochester, Massachusetts
InkRavens GOLD, Rochester, Massachusetts
10 articles 9 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
"How you shine just depends on where you've been placed beneath the spot light."- Dani Marston

“Maya! Maya!” a voice called Maya out of her deep sleep. She sat up and hit her head hard on the metal frame of her bed. She pulled herself out from underneath it and sat up beginning to rub where the metal had come in contact with her skull. Hazily she began wondering how she had gotten there she turned her head and her alarm clock caught her attention. Staring at her clock’s blue numbers she realized it was six in the morning and the first day of school.
“Oh, there you are!” Maya’s mom came into her room, and began folding a few of the t-shirts that were on the floor. She dusted them off and piled them back onto the floor.
“Mom. Leave my clothes alone, they’re there for a reason.” Maya complained to no avail, because her mom just kept on cleaning. “Do I really have to go to school today?” She looked up to see her mom holding one of her shirts to her chest.
“Does this still fit you?” She wrinkled her nose. It was a black t-shirt with the white outline of a panda on it. It was one of the World Wildlife foundation Tee’s or what ever they were called.
“Mom, I’m five foot three and I have no chest. Of course it fits me. Besides I bought it a month ago.”
Maya got up off the floor, and walked over to her mom. Taking the shirt and picking up a pair of semi clean jeans from the floor. “I’ll be in the shower.” She mumbled walking away.
“I was just trying to help. Gosh.” her mother said to herself as Maya walked into the bathroom and closed the door. Leaning against the wooden door Maya shook her head. Her mother was the only one she knew of that would say “Gosh.”
Maya stared at the bathroom trying to buy time so she would miss the bus. The butterflies that littered the walls complimented the light yellow interior of the Read family bathroom, as did the butterfly shaped soap in the butterfly shaped soap holder. Maya started the water for her shower and exited the bathroom 20 minuets later.
She looked at the clock and decided she could leave for the bus that would be arriving in 10 minuets. So she grabbed her bag, and her large green sweater that had acquired holes in the sleeves from a year of nonstop love. Walking out to the bus she put the sweater on, and slung her bag over her shoulder. She noted that the sky was cloudy, and guessed it was going to be dropping rain on everyone by the time they got to school. She sluggishly made her way down their cliché-ly long country drive way.
As she walked past her mother’s small yellow car she noticed her reflection. Her hair was almost a couple inches long and spiked, a color that reminded her of a chocolate chip cookie, that is, if her eyes were the chocolate chips. Her face was oval shaped and her figure looked awkward in the overly large clothes. She pulled some ear buds from her pocket and listened to music.
It helped her once she got onto the bus and saw that once again no one wished to sit with her. So she took her usual seat in the front with the freshmen even though she was a junior now. As she sat there she noticed that the bus made an unusual stop. Maya almost ignored it as a ninth grader getting on for their first day at the big bad High school, and she wouldn’t have noticed, if the person getting on hadn’t sat with her.
So when she turned to see who had faced his or her fears, or who was dared this time to enter the Witch’s territory and say “Hi”, she was shocked when she saw someone she had never seen before. His eyes were a green color that was very unnatural to see on someone without contacts. His hair was black-brown and fell just in front of his eyes. He didn’t seem cocky in the way he held himself, but he seemed to know she was staring at him. So he turned and gave a smile. Maya turned away because she knew he would only get off and never look at the same again, but also because she couldn’t quite compress the slight glimmer of hope that surged inside of her.
By the time they reached the school, that hope was gone. To her all students were, were shackled brainwashed monkeys in a prison just waiting to be tested and tortured. Only to everyone else, students were happy, non freakish, stylish, and had normal families. Of course Maya knew that this wasn’t completely true, but even the freaks had their friends, and all Maya had was her tiny little corner in every one of her classes.
She began to walk into the school, and saw that the boy that had been sitting next to her was already making popular friends and decided that he was probably getting the lay down about her quote-unquote “sketchy” history. This thought was confirmed as the jock, Tyler whispered something then pointed at Maya. The boy from the bus’s expression changed to one of curiosity as he stared at her.
Tyler had probably just told him about the time in their kindergarten class when Maya had noticed a man sitting near a girl named Emma. When Maya pointed him out and described him to her the girl burst into tears. A couple years later Maya found out that he was her father who had recently died in a car accident. Maya was crushed with guilt and since then Emma hasn’t talked to her and stays as far away as she can in the halls. She was the only friend Maya had ever really come close to having until sixth grade when she met Tabby.
Maya shook her head at the thought of Tabby and turned away. She walked inside, just as the rain began to fall. She made her way through the halls, and mazes of lockers. Up stairs, down stairs, every which way possible, until she reached the math wing, where she then walked into her homeroom.
“Good morning Maya.” Her homeroom and last year’s math teacher Miss. Fable greeted her.
Maya smiled and trying to be polite said: “Good morning. How was your summer?”
“Good.” She answered no longer interested in their conversation and looking through a bunch of random papers. Miss. Fable was a plump Korean lady. She wore only purple and often changed hair colors for each day of the week. Today it was dark brown, tomorrow probably hot pink.
Maya took her seat in the corner near the window and watched the rain slid over the glass pane. Staring out at the nothingness of the football field, she soon became bored and turned her gaze to the ceiling tiles. Which, she noted, were growing more mold than last year. The mold itself seemed to be taking over the surrounding tiles, and a near by wall. Maya sat like that for a while. Just looking up at the ceiling, until Miss. Fable rudely interrupted her thoughts.
“Okay, class.” She said meaning for us to shut up and listen to her or we’ll all be written up like last year. “This year, we have a new addition to our homeroom. He’s come all the way from San Francisco, California. Why don’t you tell everyone your name and something about you.” Maya felt her eyes roll. She is such a cliché and predictable teacher; luckily she was sill staring at the ceiling so she wouldn’t notice. I wonder what type of mold this is.
“Hi, my name’s Matt Spectrum. And well, I don’t know what really to tell you except to hurry up and get it out that both my parents are dead, and I’m here living with my cousin.” This caught Maya’s attention, both his parents’ dead? Who in their right mind would tell the whole class something like that? She sat up. And regretted it the instant she did. The boy from the bus was at the front of the class, and he caught her eye. He gave the same smile and began to make his way towards her corner of the room.

Maya’s whole body followed him turning as he weaved in between desks, and chairs. Everyone in the room was watching him. Even Miss Fable.
“Hi. You’re Maya right?” He asked as he reached the ring of empty desks and chairs around her. She nodded dumbly. Unbelieving he was actually approaching her after what he had been told by Tyler. And just as she convinced herself it was a joke, he sat down. “We have a lot in common.”

The author's comments:
This is a chapter of a story that has a lot more to it then people think.

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