Uncovering the Mystery of Reid Faulkner

By the eleventh or twelfth grade, everyone starts to learn what they're needed for in life, and what role they play in their environment; their niches, if you will.

The school you go to is your habitat, with your provided, predators, carnivores (Both, literal meat-eaters, and metaphorically those who will prey on you and eat your soul.) herbivores (hippies), and as always there was the scum of the earth that relied on the decayed parts of you; the decomposers; when you were already beat down, they made sure to pick at the deadest pieces. (Or whatever is still struggling to stay alive; whichever one is more hurtful.) Then there were those that would help the environment.

I am part of that group. I "help the environment." I'm the student psychologist, even though I'm still a student myself. I have counseled every single student in my grade. (Okay, maybe a bit of an exaggeration) I know all scandals, I know all secrets. I know everyone, their littlest quirks, what they like, what they dislike. But we all keep it a secret. No one else knows who's seen me. I guess they feel ashamed.

I have a lot of friends, but I only hang out with a few choice people.

But everyone else knows me. In school, I'm a celebrity. I'm friendly with everyone that's friendly to me. They know they can trust me. I'm not popular, I'm just helpful.

Like in every habitat, there is always that one lone creature that doesn't need anything, or doesn't need anyone. There's always that one creature that makes the rest of the ecosystem run onto higher ground, or underground. That one lone creature of mystery, that no one was really sure existed, that you only heard stories about, that, if it approached you, you were sure to die, or become petrified; a deer caught in the headlights. This creature walked with the grace of night, followed by it's chosen few; it's pseudo-pack. It was cold, heartless. Lonely? Suffering? Dark blue. Deep, icy, freezing blue, almost black eyes, because of the sharp strands of black hair over-shadowing its right eye; the only one who I've never spoken to, the only one I don't know about. What is it about? What is its past? Does it have something to hide? Serene, majestic, secretive; a beautiful mystery, with something to hide. What makes it so emotionless?

His name was Reid Faulkner. He was different; had a different aura, a different essence. When I saw him, it was like time was stopping, or slowing down. I saw him in slow motion. A dark, graceful, cold walk, giving a dusty, foggy, reflection of what life had done to him. He was like a wraith; you were afraid to look at him. Whenever his gaze fell upon you, you felt freezing, like you were drowning in ice water. It's a petrifying feeling. I don't know much, if anything, about him, other than what has already been mentioned. I've even asked his friends little things, so that they would drop little hints about his personality, some kind of clues. There was just something different about him that set him apart from anyone else that rebelled. He didn't have that teenaged boy immaturity. I don't know why he acts so strangely, so harshly, cold. I've been wanting to get into his mind, explore it, such a beautiful mystery.