The Guy Who...

"What? You know him! I know you're new but you have to know him!" she gave a pointed look at a guy who threw his head back and laughed. He didn't notice us though.
The laugh looked forced, but it fooled everybody.
"He's the guy who took our football team to the states finals." at my blank stare, she exhaled through her nose sharply. "The guy who helped Mrs. Rudy go to the hospital."
Sounded familiar, but I shrugged.
"He's the guy who lost his little brother in a motorcycle accident." As my eyes widened in recognition, she laughed a hard laugh. "It's funny; nobody remembers him like the hero he was. They just remember him as the guy who lost his little brother."
(Author's Note: Based on true events.)

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6. Evan Wright

       I rub my tired red eyes as I stare at the computer screen. Some kids sitting the farthest from me stare at me, curiosity lit in their eyes. I ignore them, but I can still hear their whispered comments about my brother's death. A random freshman even states that the new girl has his old locker-and that it's not right.

      Annoyed, I grab some headphones, and connect them to the iMac computer. I style some music for my short film-it's suppose to be light and upbeat-but instead it comes out sounding sad, and lonely. Frustrated, I start over, trying to mix an upbeat beat, with a sort of deep melody.

      The hour passes, and I only have half of it done. I grab my stuff, and ready myself for Geography class, a class that's on the other side of the building. People pass me by, waving or saying hello, but they never get too close, afraid that death is contagious.

      To be honest, I like it better like that; who wants friends that will do nothing but pity you?

      When I reach my locker, I put the combination in, and grab my Geography textbook, switching out folders for other notebooks. I turn when I hear Emma approach. Despite the noise in the hallways, Emma's voice is strong and loud, people making way for the small girl.

      But she's not alone; a girl a couple inches taller than her with reddish brown hair that's curled at the bottom follows obediently behind her. She has the brightest green eyes that shine with an inner hurting that I'm sure no one can understand. Despite her clothing spelling out I'm happy, I can tell that she's secretly miserable.

     Emma either doesn't notice me, or is too busy showing the new girl her locker, because she walks away from me toward the on locker that nobody wanted for the past two years.

     The locker that was once Eddie's now belongs to Leslie.

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