Chapter 5 - -CHAPTER 4: LAST HOURS OF SCHOOL-

Back in that classroom, we sat at our tables again, waiting for the next instructions. The classroom was still colorful and lively, but felt more off ever since that encounter. Then, Ms.C announced, "Welcome back, class!" She cheered and then continued, "It's the final hour of the day already! Now, we're going to try to make friendship bracelets. Everyone can wear bracelets, not just one person." She did have a point. It can't just be a specific person who can wear a bracelet. "Feel free to grab as many beads as you want for your bracelet, and if you don't want to make a bracelet, that's fine." Ms.C announced. Most of the students went up to grab some beads with letters or colors, while some just sat down and drew. But I decided to make a bracelet as a gift. I went up and grabbed some letters and color beads. I tried making the bracelet, but I kept failing. The bracelet was either too tight, too loose, too big, or too small for the wrist, or the beads kept falling out due to my shaking hands. So, I went up to Ms.C and asked, "Hey, Ms.C, I forgot to make a bracelet.. Could you teach me?" "Why sure, Tim," Ms.C said. She starts teaching me the simple way to make the bracelet. I finally caught on. "And, boom! You got yourself a bracelet. Do you understand it now?" Ms.C asked. "Yes, Ms.C," I nodded and went back to my desk to try again. I've gotten used to it and finally made a bracelet. After a while of my hands shaking and a few mistakes, I had finished the bracelet. It had pink beads and the letters spelled out, "Ms.C." I looked at the bracelet as if it were a Renaissance creation. I stood up from my desk and went to Ms. C. "Here, Ms.C," I said, "I made this bracelet for you." I handed her the bracelet. Ms.C gently took the bracelet and looked at it. I saw that her eye was filled with awe as she put the bracelet on her shadowy wrist. "Tim, this is a nice gift," Ms.C said in awe, "It even says my name. Thank you, Tim." "You're welcome, Ms.C," I replied, and I got more beads, letter beads, and a rope to make another bracelet, then I walked right back to my seat. I looked around, and one or two of the kids here looked at me in... jealousy? But what did I do wrong? It was simply a gift. I ignored it and continued making a bracelet for myself. This time, the bracelet was made with brown wooden beads, and the letter beads spelled out, "Tim". This wasn't just a bracelet. It was a memory bracelet just in case I lose myself. To remind myself I'm not a 6-year-old, I'm a 16-year-old, I'm a dreamer, and my name… my name… my name? Oh, it was Tim. To remind me that my name is Tim, I'll always be Tim and nobody else. Max came up to me, "Hey, Tim." I looked up from my bracelet and looked at him. "Yeah? What's up?" I asked. "I think... Somebody is mad at you," Max replied, "They think Ms.C is giving you all the attention when she isn't." So they were jealous, jealous of me. I wonder why. I felt confused and uncomfortable. I came here to escape from the meaniness of reality, not something from it to enter my dream. Not only that, but even the slight mention of negative emotion made me feel uncomfortable. I sighed and said, "It's okay, I don't mind if they're mad at me or not. They can keep that to themselves." Max seems to be surprised… I think. I still couldn't tell by just looking at their silhouettes. I couldn't blame him for being surprised. Such maturity doesn't exist in a class like this, but I was still uncomfortable. "Hm.. Right choice," Max admired, "Well… Hopefully, he leaves you alone. I'll see you soon." Max went back to his table. I continued doing my own thing, and it was drawing… again. This time it was a sunny field with flowers. Funny, that it was my first day of school, first day of living in dreams, and somebody is already jealous… Why? I finished my drawing and found a note on my desk. "I could read it after dismissal," I thought. I put the note away in my pocket. I looked at my bracelet, and those memories came flooding back in, the memories of reality, when I was young. One of the first memories was me playing on the playground. The mourning doves cooed, the playground had a fresh smell of mulch, and the Ice cream truck passed by, with the music playing, "Maple Leaf Rag." There was a smile on my face as I played on the red merry-go-round until my parents called out my name to get in the car. "Tim!" My mom shouted, "Time to go home!" "Okay, Mom!" I replied as I ran to the car. Another memory came to mind, this time of me catching my first-ever fish with my dad. The smells, I could remember them too. It was a fresh breeze of pine and the damp earth. I could remember the others. I just forgot those details, even though I used to remember them. Why can't I remember? "Hello? Tim? Are you awake, dear?" Ms. C asked me. I snapped out of the memories, the voices became distant like a mile away, and they started to fade. I looked up at her. "Yes?" I said. "You seemed to be lost in your own world. Well, it's time to go. Don't be late getting home," She giggled. "Alright," I replied. I stood up, pushed in my chair, and I was about to leave until she called out, "And, Tim. Even though you're new here, it'll feel like you've been here forever. See you soon!" She laughed. I didn't understand what that meant, but I smiled and waved. "Okay, goodbye, Ms.C!" I left the classroom, and the hallway was packed with silhouette kids, all trying to get home. I walked, trying to avoid them and giving them space. Until one of the kids bumped into me and I fell to the floor. "Hmph.. it's you!" The kid shouted. "The attention sponge." I stood up from the floor and dusted myself off. "What are you talking about?" I asked. "Don't pretend," The kid yelled, "When you came, Ms.C started to give you so much attention! You show off too." What did this kid expect? To have a teacher let a new kid adapt to this school on their own? How jealous do they get over this? "So?" I asked, "Why is that such a big deal?" The kid walked past me, then I felt something I shouldn't feel in a dream… Anger. I just wanted to go home. Wait… go home? Do I even have a home here? Where should I live? I continued walking in the hallways, still thinking about the words that kid had said. I went outside, and there stood the buses waiting for the silhouettes to get inside. I looked up in the sky, and the sun no longer had an eye. It was back to… normal? I went inside the bus, and it was packed with silhouettes. Some were talking, and others were staring out of the window. I sat in a random seat by myself, and there sat a kid who seemed to be a silhouette of a girl. I was looking outside, still thinking about reality and what that kid said. Am I really hogging all of the attention, or was that something trying to make me feel… No, I shouldn't think that. "Hey," The girl beside me said softly, "You're different. You're not from around here, are you?" I looked at her and sighed, "Yeah, I'm new here." The girl, maybe… just maybe, looked curious; possibly because of my human skin. "What's your name?" I asked the girl. The girl was silent before she said, "Nyx… My name is Nyx." Nyx… Nyx.. another unique name. "Nyx sounds like a nice name," I complimented. The girl giggles, "Thanks. It's a wonderful name my mom gave me." Nyx looked outside a bit before turning back to me. "What's your name?" Nyx asked. "My name?" I asked. I had slightly forgotten what it was… Is it because of those dream pills? I looked at my bracelet that said, "Tim," and looked back at her. "Tim," I answered, "My name is Tim." Nyx then nodded and muttered, "Tim… Eh, kinda too simple if you ask me." I did a soft laugh, "Yeah, my parents couldn't think of one. So, they named me after my grandpa." My grandpa… I remember. He's not dead, no, I just haven't seen him in a while, I wonder if he is worrying about me just about as much as my parents do right now. My grandma, however, died five years ago due to COVID. My grandpa has been broken ever since. I remembered the cookies she used to bake, the times she made me laugh, and the times when she and Dad were the only ones who made me a bit happy in reality. And oh damn, I forgot my grandpa was a really tough man. He fought in the Contra war in Nicaragua when he was 17. "So, do you like it here?" Nyx asked me, and I responded, "Yeah. There was just one slightly mean kid, but… No big deal." I ended it with a shrug. It was a big deal, I actually, that kid gave me an emotion I shall not feel in dreams. "Anyways, Nyx, what do you think of my bracelet?" I asked Nyx while I held my wrist out to her. "Bracelets aren't my thing, to be honest," Nyx replied, "But I like it a bit." When I heard that, I felt a sense of relief, a little break from that mean kid's words. "Thanks," I said. I looked back outside. The sun was setting, the sky was pink, and we were passing light green hills that had wind turbines. The scenery feels like it came out of a computer background. Not only that, but it was also very breathtaking. Frutiger Aero… that's what it's called for this type of scenery. "I don't like those tall fans," Nyx said, "it ruins the view…" Nyx looked away from the scenery and looked at her shoes… if I could even see if they're shoes or not. "It's alright," I sighed, "I guess everyone likes to see scenery differently." Nyx nodded before lying her head on the window and falling asleep. We passed by those hills, and a new place came to my eyes. It was some hills, with cookie-cutter houses, and fences were all around. We passed a sign that might've been the name of this place… "Eternal Suburbia."