The Pain Behind Bright Blue Eyes

Disclaimer: Yes I know I don\'t need one but still....First off I would like to say that this is MY story not YOUR story. If I want flying purple monkeys with fez hats I will have them. Furthermore, everything in here is from my twisted mind...I do not steal ideas and I do not want you stealing mine.

This is my first posted story here...it\'ll probably be a little slow at first but it will pick up. Comments are welcome. If you like the story cool, if you don\'t I don\'t care; no one is forcing you to read. ^-^ now onward...

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I sat in the classroom listening to the teacher\'s droning just enough to take the important notes. My mind was in a fog again like it had been for the past couple weeks, or months. I stared at the clock as it slowly ticked away the seconds I had left in this annoying class at an agonizingly slow pace. My mind began drifting to other places until a voice suddenly broke me from my trance. \"Ms. Mezinos, could you please tell me what I was just talking about?\" I turned and gazed defiantly at the teacher. Just because he was 7 feet tall and had anger issues he thought that everyone should bow down to him. \"Yeah, you were talking about how \"in order to find the mass of an atom with a given number of moles you have to multiply the number of moles by Avagadro\'s number or six point oh-two-two times ten to the twenty-third.\"\" I saw the anger flash behind his eyes as I quoted his last sentence directly. The class glared at me in awe and contempt as I went back to staring at the clock. \"Next time I would appreciate it if you looked like you paid more attention, Ms. Mezinos.\" He ordered. I tapped my black polished nails on the desk, 3, 2, 1...ring. With the tone of the bell that controls us all we packed up our stuff and piled out of the room.

I walked down the hallway, being pushed along by the sea of other students. My name is Melanie Margaret Mezinos. I would like to say I am your average 16 year old girl but I\'m not at liberty to label myself as such. I have been in this small school system for my entire life so far (kindergarten through my now junior year). People say it\'s nice to grow up in a small town with a small school and I guess it is seeing that the major crimes are some guy growing pot in his back yard and some kid defacing the school. We are also known for our outstanding test grades and being open to all types of people. I say that it is completely overrated. Everyone knows everyone else way to personally, ask me, I have dirt on all 298 students in this school and I know very well that if people can\'t see right through someone, they\'re an outcast. People say I will regret it but I can\'t wait to get out of this nowhere town.

The closest chance I had to do that was when my parents got divorced and my mom moved. She walked out when I was 6 and I didn\'t see her for 3 years straight, a lot can happen to a young girl being raised by her father and his friends for 3 years. I learned to support myself and to self heal to the point that when I saw my mother again, I hated her, and I do \'till this very day. I\'m cursed to have to spend every weekend at her house where I lock myself in my room with a stereo and a laptop and imerse myself in teenage pleasures. I get good grades and I\'m afraid not to. My father is very strict about my grades, don\'t get me wrong, he has never laid a hand on me, but if I get anything short of straight A\'s I get yelled at for hours. I can\'t stand yelling; it causes something inside me to break slowly, painfully. Thankfully, I am naturally bright and have that amazing power you saw before to be able to repeat people\'s words without really listening to them.

I reached my locker, 241, opened it, threw some books in (literally) then took out two notebooks, slammed it shut and went back in the direction that I had just came from. I sat at my usual table in the corner of the library and began scanning notes for the test in my next class. The usual people piled into studyhall and three of my friends came over, slamming their books on the desk in frustration. Followed directly by the late bell. \"Elsie just told me what the Chemistry teacher did to you tody...he is such an ass.\" Breanna fumed, \"Why don\'t you do something to him?\" I looked at her seriously \"I\'m already doing something, the mind is a powerful weapon my short friend.\" I looked at the group at my table and agreed that yes indeed I was pathetic. A short skinny freshmen, an even shorter, average build junior and an averaged height plump girl, all brunettes, all brown eyes; except me. I was the tallest of the group, and the tallest girl in the school. Despite my athletic build I had quite the assets (unlike the ones I hung out with). My shoulder-length brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, allowing my black-lined eyes to show through. I used to have piercing blue eyes that went so well with pigtails but over the years after my mother left they faded into a piercing green, changing colour from green, to blue, to hazel, even to yellow from time to time.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair and throwing my pencil on my open notebook. My eyes scanned the door, catching sight of another well-known person. She walked into the room a little shyly, handing the teacher in charge her late note. I smiled, she was my best friend. We had been best friends since 4th grade when we ganged up on a teacher and realized that we had so much in common. She was like my sister...my heart fluttered at the sight of her coming over; I was in love with my sister.