Memories Kill

         
      His sable eyes are what drew me to him. His ambiguous smile was fearsome and comforting. In a prep school, his long bluish-black hair and strange style of clothing was what set him apart and dubbed him, “Freak.” That name stuck fast to him until the day he shocked us all.
        Freak seemed like the type that would shoot up the school. He had a personality that some would call gothic while others said “emo.” They thought he was weird because he was different not part of their norm and because of that, he became a loner; an outcast of our school’s society. No one would talk or even notice him.
At lunch, he sat by himself and in all of his classes he sat in the far left corner. Rumors floated around that he had killed someone, each day the story changing. One day it was that he had murdered his own mother and the next, he had murdered his ex-girlfriend for breaking up with him. Everyone feared him and his sable eyes but, I saw something more. I would soon realize that in the world I lived in-a world of cliques, popularity, and preps- there was someone out there who was normal; someone like me.
                 It was the beginning of a new semester and none of my friends were in the same lunch as me; they all had first and I had third. After paying for my lunch, I went out into the eating area and searched for a seat. The cafeteria seemed especially loud this time of year and I assumed it was because we had just returned from Christmas break. As far as I could see, there were no seats open except for the far left corner where he sat. Freak’s table was the only seat open and the lunch monitors were starting to yell at people to sit down. It was either Freak or detention; I chose Freak.
        Slowly, my feet moved me toward his table. It felt like walking through wet cement and finally getting through the stuff just to be in a worse place than you were. Once I did reach it, I immediately looked down at my food and tray and sat down. I was afraid to look into his sable eyes but as I started eating, my curiosity drew me to look up. There Freak sat; his eyes staring directly into mine. At that moment I seemed to have drowned in the deepness of them. He just smiled and sat gazing back at me.
A few seconds after I realized what I was doing, I quickly jerked my head away and went back to eating. My astonishingly dull tray was my only comfort as it was the only thing I could stare at without feeling self-conscious.
        “Hey, don’t always believe the rumors people tell you.”
        He spoke; Freak actually spoke to me. But I still took more interest in my tray at the time. I think I even counted the scratches on it then. The smallest detail seemed to stand out more, making it easier to look at than the person sitting in front of me.
        “My name is Iyan; I’m a junior. You?”
        I froze. He told me his name; his true identity that had been lost when he entered this school.
“Are you okay?”
“ Um, yeah of course,” was all I could say.
        He laughed and went back to eating his food. He’d spoken, laughed, and told me his true identity. Maybe he wasn’t so bad like people said he was but then again it could be a trap. For the rest of lunch, we sat in silence.
        The next day, I went to lunch early and sat with a group of girls I despised. They all were fake plastics that only gossiped about the person sitting across from them and talked about what they each did with their boyfriends over the break. I hadn’t really sat with them since freshman year. It sickened me to hear them utter the things they did.
What really annoyed me was when they talked about Iyan. Of course they didn’t call him that; they called him Freak. I don’t know why it angered me so much because I had just met him; I didn’t really know him. But whenever they mentioned him, I glanced over at his table as if I thought he could hear them. Each time I looked back, I caught his eyes staring back at me; those soft, sable eyes.

[Editing: Emily Nicole Cerda (UN: emilyncerda55 at Writing.Com)]