Author's note: I hope people will think about the working's of a dark mind, of how our society puts a grave... Show full author's note »
DisgraceBut it was not what it could be. As he strode down the aisle, no one acknowledged his procession. Unacceptable, such a disregard for their superior. He knew though, by the end of the day they would all know his name. Every last one would be struck with fear, a rusted spear impaling their hearts.
He took his seat, empty. Around the other children kept busy, a ruckus that could not be ignored. One he sought to end. But for now, the boy had only to busy himself with such fantastic thoughts in his bubble of isolation perpetuated by his social denial. He knew from days long past he was a loveable person. He knew people could laugh at things that emerge from his mind. He knew inside there were ideas worth spreading. Yet it was too late, for one darker than the rest gushed like a jugular, stained like ink. Fed by ego, an intelligence he bore that made him the god he saw. And was it not the responsibility of a god to exercise judgment on his lesser? On this day he planned to do just that. His backpack carried immense weight, as did his mind. Second thoughts like boulders splashed into the pond of his brain. Awakene skepticism flared like a festering rash.
He laughed it off. A skeptic god? What could be more absurd!
Laughter exploded at the sound of a crude joke. The boy was reminded even stronger of his intent. Inside he felt courage surface like a breathless whale.
Another distracting laugh, behind him cruel insults lashed out at the bus driver. With every unintelligent syllable the boy shuddered. Alas, there was no time to be without joy, but only one stop now rested between the boy and the school.
A girl sneezed—then continued her tirade about how boring her night had been, as if “watching some old guy, like, talk about something I don’t even care about—“ Her friend nods sympathetically.
The boy quickly looks out to the street, the blur of the asphalt slowing to where if he moved his eyes just fast enough, he could pick out little individual bits of the tire marked stone.