Conversations

The blue screen of my computer was still the same, clicking every so often to make me remember that it didn't work.   Booting up this old trash was probably a way to make me feel connected to this society powered by industrialization.  Once again the door knocked and my brother asked me to come downstairs for breakfast.

As I was descending the creaky steps that were run down and tired, I heard my brother.
"Put a ripe banana in your ear!"  He yelled to his twin.

Finally I got to the dining room where I could see the flaming tulips laid on the small plywood table.  It was the only thing my parents did pay attention to: those flamboyant, melting flowers.  I turned away from them to see our old neighbor jogging again outside.  She was maybe around 70 years old, but she wanted to keep with the times.  Her "royal" (as she called it) purple hair stood out of this neighborhood of ashes.

"Clank." My mom placed a plate in front of me that was completely white, except for what was at its center.  I was never sure what to expect for breakfast, but this was amazing.  A piece of beef steak that shrunk due to heat was whistling on the plate.  I brushed my bang to the side and was horrified.  I thought I saw it move for a second.  Without any hesitation, I cut it to bits and ate each piece vigorously.  I glanced at the watch choking my wrist and knew it was time to run.

As I picked up my bag and went outside through the rusting door-frame, I took note of how a lot of weeds were growing between the cement cracks.  In a small cluster of leaves, a penny was hiding.  I bent down and grabbed it, adding it to the collection of the 77 cents I had in my pocket.  I headed towards the left, turned right once, and ran in a straight line.  The scenery made me think of Mare Imbri, with all the ashes running around.  The only thing that actually looked nice was that one lonely live snail, on a tree, that I noticed while running by.  It had a bright green shell.

Once at the school, I slowed down to amuse myself.  People began sticking the most bizarre posters in order to receive votes during the student council elections.  One featured a boy that I recognized with the caption "Kiss a wookie, kick a droid, Fly the falcon through an asteroid, Till the princess is annoyed, This is spaceships, it's monsters, it's Star Wars, we love it!" crudely written with a crayon.  Another was a girl with melting red lips who clearly manipulated her face on Britney Spears' body with the caption "I'm the leader; I'll decide where we go."   I found it funny that they didn't realize it's always the same people who vote and that everyone else just don't actually care.

My history class was like usual: set up in a circle.  The teacher hoped that his students would eventually straighten their back, look interested, and even flirt with him (that never happened though).  He began his daily routine by asking the students to take out their bricks about the Norse gods.  Some took out a robin-egg blue book out, hinting it was the 10th edition, while others held a smooth lime-green book, the 15th edition.  Consequently, the teacher would get up and stroll around, peering and pouring a hot breath on your shoulder as he checked if you annotated the text.  Like usual, he came towards me, checked, and placed a "1" next to my name.  For once I actually took a highlighter and went on a coloring frenzy.  The conversation was ignited by the same girl I saw on the poster before.  Her hair was curly and black, her lips melted from the intense red applied, and her hands rested on the desk in a way that told you that she was in charge.
"Personally, I believe, like, Loki is the most powerful Norse God."  She bellowed coarsely.
The class then slowly participated as I slid back into my seat.

The clock struck 12:30, animating me.  I traveled through the hallways toward J-230.  Two girls were sitting on a bench texting each other furiously; I thought it was rather strange.  Their pale hands looked like white sheets ruffling on top of a black, box-like phone.  I came close to them, mesmerized by how they typed so quickly, forgetting how impolite it was to stare.  Suddenly one of the two snapped their head back and looked at me.  I didn't know what to say, but before I knew it I asked something.
"Why are you guys texting each other when your next to each other?" I inquired softly.
Neither answered, instead the one who snapped her head back looked down at her phone and ruffled her hands once more.  Then she showed the telephone screen to me.  It said they were mute.   At that moment I felt dumb and bad, so I said sorry and quickly drifted towards the cafeteria.

I was in line to receive the daily course that the ladies working there made.  Today was escargot, but knowing the culinary skills involved, the snails were probably still alive.  At the cash register, I looked for my wallet.  I then remembered I left it near the computer screen and swore under my breath.  I reached into my pocket and rummaged through my bag.  At least the food wasn't expensive; it was only around 75 cents.  I took out all the pennies I had and began counting them up by the ten.  If it weren't for my shy and scared look, I swore that the cashier guy would have punched me.  I hustled along and went to an empty table, put my food down, and slammed my head against the cold plastic top.  I just wanted to get out of here and sit outside.  The only positive thing was that the ladies that were there gave me some hot water.  I put the tea bag in and began drinking Chamomile Tea.

The courtyard outside was charcoal-gray and the grass looked singed.  I sat down near the bare tree, opened my bag, took some paper, and just drew circles.  There wasn't much of anything to do; I always drew circles out of boredom.  Everything could be related back to circles.  My life was a daily routine that was a circle.  The pennies before were circles.  The sparkling pink Hello Kitty clock my younger sister had was a circle.

I started walking back to my house, the one house with a rusting door-frame.  I laughed when I stopped in front of it and began observing how I could see those tulips that my parents always paid attention to.  I looked up and saw the silhouette of my brother, reaching for a faint yellow light that would appear and disappear.  He almost looked like a magician.  I bent down and removed some of the weeds from the crack.  Another penny was in the grass now, so I picked it up.  Finally, I walked into the house.  I went towards that room with those melting flowers.  I picked up the tulips, snapped them to pieces, and laid them in the garbage bin.