Author: Shadow's Reign PM
Written by a friend of mine and myself, This is a parody of our lives based on [mostly] true events, The Story is the epic tale of the aggressive Krystle Luze, and the passive Anthony Smith. All the characters are actually based on real people. Please R&RRated: Fiction T - Spanish - Parody/Angst - Words: 860 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 01-08-08 - id: 2460221
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
This was, oddly, written by me and a friend of mine, and we're still in the process of writing it. Who knows when it'll end. Nevertheless, a couple other chapters have already been written, I just have to type it up. Hope it's not too random for ya!
Krystle sighed aloud, "Perhaps this year will be different." She rolled her caramel colored irises at her ridiculous thought. "Yeah right. I'm going to step in here and suddenly everybody will like me again and stop shunning me like I've caught some incurable contagious disease."
"You really shouldn't talk to yourself; it makes people think you're crazy."
Krystle turned around, startled by her sudden visitor."Si usted sólo supo," she rolled her eyes again at this naive intrusion, "People already think I'm crazy, plus I don't care what 'people' think anyway"
"¿Qué no sé yo?" he answered back in perfect spanish. "You're not the only one who can speak spanish." he replied with a smile.
"Here I am." she waved her hand behind her at what she considered to be a concentration camp for the kids of very misguided parents.
"Well now there's two of us." He winked an eye.
"Look I really don't have time for your lame come ons and horrible flirting, I have to concentrate on doing my best impression of a potted wall plant for the rest of the day so if you don't mind, fuck off." she smiled sarcastically at the stranger still standing in front of her blocking her entrance.
"Ouch. Name's Amante." He held out a hand.
She stared at his outstretched and shifted her book bag onto the next shoulder. "Maybe I was unclear before. I don't care who you are, and by the end of the day, you'll wish you never spoke to me Amante."
"Well for the time being can I at least know your name?"
"My god when will he give up?!" Krystle thought in her head. "Krystle. K-r-y-s-t-l-e."
"Why the spelling?"
"For all the notes you'll be reading about me."
I yawned and looked at the worksheet before me. A few minutes passed before I forced myself to pick up my pencil and begin working on the algebra problems of which I thought worthless. I sighed, lacking anything else to do, then shook my head.
"This is useless. We're never going to need this stuff in real life," I whispered to myself, pretending not to notice the sidelong glances I gained from my fellow students.
I actually pity you…and now I don't care. Sucks for you!
"Mr. Smith! Is there some sort of problem back there?" Mrs. McHaddy's shrill voice pierced the dull silence like an annoyingly high-pitched clap of thunder. She looked at me through beady little dark eyes filled with distaste.
Wincing, I shook my head again. "No ma'am."
She scoffed, "Didn't think so." The grayish beehive that sat atop her head wobbled slightly as she assumed whatever she was working on.
I sighed once more and also resumed my work. Not two problems in, a note slides onto my desk. I looked up to see who had put it there, but no one glanced back to make sure I noticed the note. Odd.
I checked the outside, seeing if the note was merely in transit, and I was to act as courier, but no name was written on it. I unfolded the intricately arranged paper, inherently wondering how long it was going to take me to mimic the fold, as quietly as possible, but not worrying about visual predators.
Sitting in the back and being aggressive to all who attempt to get close has its perks, I suppose.
This is crap. This entire school is crap. Why are we wasting our time here, when we could be home, on the computer? Or at the mall. Or the beach…see? There's a world of possibilities out there, and here you are, stuck in the dull room with this dull teacher and this dull subject, which makes no sense at all, might I add, living this dull life—
'Ravic, would you shut up for once? I know you're my conscience, but do you have to talk so much?' I was sure to think this thought, rather than speaking it.
'Thank you. Now…' I focused my attention again on the anonymous note.
"Now what?" I queried aloud. That worksheet Mrs. McHaddy had passed out had lasted for all of five minutes; all of it was relatively simple math aka boring. I pulled out a sheet of paper and started to doodle.
"Being a social leper has its benefits. No one saw me pass that note"
"More like no one cared enough to ponder..."