Think Creatively

By Jessica Carroll

 

            Nobody sees me switch chairs – twice. They’re too busy discussing drugs and being lost and their Pez dispensers. I imagine them hiding the drugs in the Pez dispensers, and when they are tripping on whatever drug it is they take nowadays, they get lost and end up in Canada and I never have to deal with them again. Or maybe even better, a car hits them. Man, am I sadistic. I smile and laugh to myself. Someone else says something stupid and they all laugh. No one notices the smile on my face, or if they did, they probably just figure that I am laughing at whatever nonsense the teacher was allowing to go on. God, why did I sign up for this class?

            I prepare to change seats again. Actually, I just try to work up the nerve to make the switch. I don’t know why I always have to get the courage to do something when I know that no one will even see – or care to see – what I do. I make the change. No one notices. They’re all trying to get the teacher to make their homework easier, or just do it for them so they get a decent grade in a class that they would have never thought to sign up for if they hadn’t failed Physics.

            I wonder why they don’t care to notice me, and then I realize it. I’m invisible. I have reached what I have strived for since Freshman Year. My major goal has been to be invisible, and today I realize that I am. Here I am, nearly halfway through my senior year, and the majority of my classmates know no more about me than my name, and vice versa.

            My concentration is broken when the class starts to discuss what they wrote about in a free write that I definitely wasn’t doing for the past five minutes. I switch chairs again, and again no one notices. I could be on fire and they wouldn’t notice.

            They start another “exciting” conversation sparked by a pair of glasses that I would wear, but they all seem to want to mock. I give up writing for a minute and just sit there, listening to them discuss Weezer, John Mayer, and Dashboard Confessional. I can’t tell whether or not what they’re saying about these three – all of whom I happen to like – is good or bad, so I pull my head back into the shell that is my low self-esteem and don’t voice my opinion. I’ve known from bad experiences in eighth grade that as soon as I open my mouth, senseless garbage spews out completely different than what I planned and I end up looking, sounding, and feeling like an ass.

            I look at the clock. Less than five minutes remain before the bell rings and I’m free to go wander the building while they go meet up with their friends and smoke in the park or go have sex with whomever it is they’re all sleeping with nowadays.

            The next five minutes seem to last forever, and I attribute that to the fact that I am staring at the clock, watching it’s hands creep along its face. The class is in a free-for-all and even attempting to write in this noise is out of the question, so I impatiently watch the clock. When the bell rings, I’m the last person out of the room because I wait until after the bell rings to gather my stuff.