Unapologetic Apathy

*Frank's POV*

"Right, yep. Seriously, just whatever, okay? Just, go away or something." I sighed and sank deeper into my spindly and much-graphitised chair. My Maths teacher, Mr Walker or Stalker or whichever huffed exasperatedly and whirled around, throwing his hands up in the air and letting the scribbled on and ripped up homework flutter sadly to the floor. As he strode angrily back towards the front of the room I pushed myself upright and leaned over the desk, shoving my books and pencils aside and flipping him off, my face contorted in the ugliest expression I could pull. I settled back in my seat when Stalker reached the board, turning to face the rest of the class and glaring accusingly at me. I blatantly rolled my eyes and grabbed a permanent marker from the small scattered pile of stationary before me, pressing the nib to the pale dry skin of my hand.

I often drew on myself when I didn't pay attention in class, meaning I was constantly covered in the ink I couldn't afford at the tattoo parlour. I drew skulls and elegantly styled words as a distraction from the insufferable babble surrounding me, selfish and puny humans who believed that in eighty years time when they were still and cold in their graves, someone could be bothered to remember them. The felt-tip glided smoothly over the bumps and ridges of my knuckles, emitting an overpowering and slightly nauseating odour.

Time droned, a low incessant buzzing in the mind, and grey shrouds encroached the edges of my vision. All too soon the emptiness had resettled within me after my brief outburst of feeling, resulting in a never ending boredom that stretched and warped like a nightmare, my blank gaze directed at thin air and space. For the rest of the day I remained oblivious to the pushing, shoving and screaming, the smacking of gum and the hurling of insults, sweat and phony personalities and the lingering aura of hopelessness that made up the entirety of the teenage population.

Well, maybe the hopelessness part was just me.

The final bell screeched, and I was jerked from my daze abruptly when my desk was crashed into, tilted over and smacked the ground with an ear-splitting bang. All my work books ripping open and scattering all over the filthy floor.

"Well, shit man," I muttered in the direction of the perpetrator. "Come on, I've got a date with a chair and some rope waiting on me, or maybe a really tall bridge." I heaved myself tiredly to my feet. The boy? Yep, boy, stopped and stared at me in shock. I shrugged and stepped around him, beginning to pick up my loose and torn papers.

"W-wait, what did you say?" He stuttered, still gazing at me with wide eyes.

"Nah, s'okay," His tensed shoulders relaxed a bit. "I was actually thinking too many prescription pills, but ya know..." I trailed off, still searching for the missing pages to my Maths book, not even paying attention to the horrified student behind me.

"Dude, that's not funny!" He exclaimed, waving his arms about in agitation. I grudgingly gave up my search and unwillingly focused my attention on the flabbergasted boy currently glaring at me.

"I'm not joking, you're not laughing. Now, if you'll excuse me." I snatched up my bag, and left the room without another word nor a backward glance. "I'm so done with this shit."

Notes

Right, hey. First solo project. This is really sort of a diary like thing for me, a venting ground if you like, something to relate to. I don't mind if you rate, comment or subscribe or not, I just want this out there for something to do. Anyone who even read up to here has my sincerest thanks.