Spectator

It was nearing the end of class. As usual, I was sitting at the back of the classroom, the countless equations written on the board dancing in and out of hazy vision, the slow drone of the teacher's voice always heard, but never listened to. The faint breeze sneaking through the window set high in the wall played in my hair, sending cold chills down my spine. It seemed… peaceful. Serene.
The chime of the school bell, signaling the end of the day, cuts through the thick haze of my thoughts, shocking me. Swearing softly under my breath, I stand, pack countless half-completed worksheets into my backpack, and slowly file out the classroom door with the rest of the class.

Wherever I go, I feel as though I'm disconnected from the rest of the world. It's as if I'm an observer, spectating on the events of the rest of the world through a pane of glass. A pane of glass that sucks all the colour out. As I watched, smoky storm clouds rolled across the grey winter sky, threatening to dump their load on the dark city below. The streets were bustling with countless faceless people, all trying to make it to shelter before the imminent downpour. As groups of friends scuttle off into the distance, I stand by the school gate, watching these events transpire. Nobody looks my way, no one notices me. It seems as though I am invisible, the pane of glass through which I watch also blocking the vision of those who would watch me. Gathering my thoughts, I begin my trudge home.

Feeling hungry, I stop off at a small burger store. Standing in the queue for the counter, I look at the overhead menus. Bright pictures of over-styled burgers, each with a cheesy slogan printed in even bright lettering adorn them. Their sight, as well as the smell of the burgers being made, reminds me that this is in fact the first meal I've had since breakfast yesterday.
I hear a soft voice. It takes a good ten, twenty seconds for it to realize that I'm at the counter, one of the wait staff ready to take an order. With the people in the queue behind me becoming restless, I quickly request the first item on the menu, whatever that was, and make way.

Having received my order, I make my way out the front of the store and resume my trip home. The first drops of the promised rain begin to fall as I finish my burger. Not bothering to take shelter, I quickly am soaked to the bone. It's getting quite late; so many shops have lit up their signs. The lights, distorted by the rain, splash across the road, turning it into a silent disco floor. Amid this ghostly spectacular, my lone figure walks into the mist brought in with the rain.

I arrive at my destination. A faded blue shipping container silently rusts in the carpark of an abandoned industrial estate. A flickering weak light from the fluorescent streetlight nearby casts creepy shadows across the slightly ajar doors. A lone power cable trails out of a hole in the side, winding into one of the warehouses. Pulling one of the stiff doors open, the breeze picks up a few sheets of paper and blows them out the door, the rain quickly rendering them unreadable.
I step inside, and pull the door closed behind me.  For a moment, I stand, enjoying the almost total darkness.
A stark electric light bulb flickers to life as I flick the switch, illuminating a scene of chaos. Garbage, various newspapers and sheets of paper, and dirty clothes were piled in large heaps on the floor. Oblivious to it all, I drop my school bag at the entrance and pick my way across to the only tidy space, a small mattress. Still wet, I fling myself onto it, the bump shaking small flakes of rust from the bare roof. The water clinging to my clothes eagerly seeks new territory in the moldy mattress. Having already spent much time that day lost in my thoughts, I close my eyes, and drift off to sleep.