Fan Fiction by JokerAgentChaos on deviantart.com
Eighth grade. Oh boy, let me tell ya! It's a nightmare for the nerds and little kids who haven't gone through puberty, but heaven for the popular kids, the punks, the bullies, the hot girls.
There were many classifications in middle school that a kid can slip into.
For girls, you were either a sweet, nice girl who got good grades, or a hottie; a snob. The one with all the popular kids.
It was tough being in this top category. The category I'm in. Anyway back to my rambling!
Let's see, now for guys
there's the "Nerds", of course. Computer geeks, smarty's, you know
Then there's the "Jocks"; the basketball, football die-hards. Tall with their teen muscles developed, they have all the girls after them, they have the practices every day after school.
Then there's the punks, the gangsters, the "cool" guys. Yep! Those are the main three labels for guys.
There are some people, just a few, who don't fit in any group, any category. They are the weird ones, the emo ones, the outcasts, the lone wolves.
One boy was like this.
One boy. He stayed in his seat, hood over his head, earphones quietly buzzing in his ears.
He never spoke, no one knew his name. He wasn't here last year, in seventh grade. He must have moved here.
The teachers didn't even know his name! He would never tell anyone. Rumors floated around that his records were missing.
He always wore the same thing, black skinny jeans, a dark purple hoodie, black earphones, worn down skater shoes, black eye shadow. Totally emo.
His face was covered by his dirty, blonde, wavy hair and purple hood, the shadow it cast made his eyes look even darker. He never smiled. His mouth was always closed. He always had bruises on his hands and neck.
One day he came with a white cast on one arm. It was gone in two days, no one asked him about it. He stayed statue still, leaning back in his chair with his hands in his hoodie pouch. He was called down to the office a lot.
When the bell rang after each class, he waited for everyone else to leave before going out himself. I never saw him in the halls, yet he was never late to his next class.
He missed days randomly, and sluffed class sometimes. But he was never tardy.
I never saw him at lunch. He must have lunch detention! I looked, but he was never there. He never did his homework, he had failing grades. Everyone whispered about him, naming him the emo kid, the weirdo