• The day was dark and gloomy. Rain poured from the sky in torrents. Standing out in the middle of it could soak through a piece of clothing within seconds. Lightening flashed in the distance, but was too far away to make a sound. The gloominess was as stifling as the muggy air that filled a bus to bursting. On that bus sat a girl. Her eyes were as lifeless as the atmosphere. Her hair fell into her face, shielding her from everything around her. Her dull eyes saw only the water filled streets through the rain splotched window. Music blared into her ear, a single screech of male screams and guitars. She seemed not to hear, however, her face not even registering the screams.

    A group of boys that surrounded her were cruelly teasing and poking fun at her. They tried to get an expression from her, tried so hard to make her flinch. They sat beside her in the seat, calling her names and poking her sides or arms. They made fun of her wavy sheet of brown hair that obscured her face from their view and of the dark bruises beneath her eyes. They pointed out her black, baggy clothes and pale skin. They informed her that she was going to go deaf, that she was a vampire and a witch, and many other things that can’t be mentioned here.

    No one cared. No one stopped.

    Emotionless.

    She barely blinked an eye. Dull eyes, a dull face. The bus arrived at the high school, and she slowly pulled her headphones out of her ears, waiting for the others to move ahead of her. She was alone, walking through the pouring rain towards the doors. People passed, laughing and screaming happily about the rain. Smiles, joy. Her eyes saw them all, but they didn’t see her. A pair of best friends walked past quickly, teases going between them about boys and the trouble they caused. A couple ironically after that, his arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. When they reached the awning, they kissed briefly. An intimate moment. More people. Countless people. They walked in droves around her, not seeing her. She moved as if a snail. Her clothes were beyond soaked. She wouldn’t dry out for another couple hours at this rate. People practically ran around her.

    No one cared. No one stopped.

    Emotionless.

    She was alone in the school, her eyes focused around her at the different groups. The punks and the preps. The thespians and the lesbians. The jocks and the nerds. The ones without a place who had gathered together. She sat against a wall, her knees pulled to her chest along with the miles and miles of black denim that made her pants. The air in the commons was just as muggy as the warm air outside, and it clashed with the stale smell of school. Yet with the sticky heat, she didn’t take off her large, bulky sweat jacket, nor did she bother to peel the lanky curls of hair from her neck. She looked like a drowned kitten, and yet, she didn’t seem to care. She just sat there, staring and staring. No expression on her face. Merely eyes.

    No one noticed. No one cared.

    Emotionless.

    The bell rang, and she stood in one graceful move. Bag over shoulder, jacket in place… She moved forward, falling in with a stream of people, altho’ she stood apart from them. They all laughed and joke around. She was alone, pushing her way through the people. First, a stop by her locker. It was nearly empty, just the books that she needed. She didn’t even care enough to lock it. She was the first to enter the classroom and take her seat, second to the back, farthest row from the teacher’s desk. People wandered in after her, talking and laughing without any cares. Among them was the boys from the bus, their laughter and perverted conversations surrounding her as they took the seats around her. Their teasing focused on her once again, even while the teacher stood at the board and taught, his droning voice a never ending stream of boredom and monotone. The teacher was talking about functions and graphs and about plugging in numbers from somewhere. She watched intently, her gaze unwavering and dull. They called her names beneath their breath, wicked smiles shot in her direction. Their voices continued to tear at her, forcing her soul to wear down into dust. She said nothing, did nothing. Those around them didn’t even bother to look at the teasing taking place.

    No one noticed. No one cared.

    Emotionless.

    But then, she was not so emotionless. In all the time that the boys had teased her and called her evil things, they had never once seen her open her mouth. It always remained tightly closed, emitting no sound and speaking not a word. But now, something seemed to snap from within her. With her eyes still emotionlessly on the teacher’s back, her mouth slowly opened into a perfect O and a sound flowed from her lips. It was soft and quiet, almost a whisper, but it was clear and so powerful that it penetrated the very corners of the room. She sang the note as if she were several voices, all staggering their breathing and as clear and unwavering as crystal. Not an inch of vibrato found its way in her steady note. The boys looked to each other nervously, their whispers dying. The teacher turned, hearing the voice and looking for the culprit. He dropped the chalk he had been using in shock to see that the one at work was the ever silent girl at the back of his class.

    Eyes were drawn. They were curious.

    Emotionless still.

    Her eyes never left the blackboard, her hands remained on her desk, her long fingers curled around edge as she gripped it. Her fingers were trembling, her knuckles white. It was almost as if she wanted to contain everything within her from bursting. Her note stopped. She breathed silently before starting again. It was that exact same note, exact same tone, but a level louder. “If you would please—I’m trying to teach a lesson!” the teacher said, suddenly wondering the name of the girl. She ignored him. Emotionless eyes gazing holes into the blackboard. Fingers trembling, her nails breaking, white knuckles cracking, the note growing… Her feet started pounding into the ground in a steady march. The note swelled in volume to a mezzo piano

    All eyes on her. Curiosity humming beneath the note.

    Emotionless. Always emotionless.

    She stood, the note growing to follow the action. A mezzo forte. People looked to each other nervously. Nervous chuckles shared. One girl in the corner slipped from her desk and began crawling towards a safe hiding place. Everyone had the same question.

    “Did she have a gun? Was she going to kill them all?”

    Her jacket slipped from her shoulders, falling to the ground. She stopped to take a slow, steady, noiseless breath, and the class breathed with her. They were entranced. The teacher was staring at her in pure shock and terror. Beneath her jacket she had worn a normal, black t-shirt that should have been tight. Instead, it hung from her bony frame grotesquely, the sleeves falling to her elbows. But what could be seen of her usually hidden neck and arms were thousands of dark purple bruises. Bruises of abuse and pain. Her skeletal image became even more twisted as blood dripped from her broken nails, falling in puddles at her feet. The note changed. The note was no longer emotionless.

    All eyes on her. All thoughts of fear.

    Pain. Incredible, unendurable pain.

    The girl who had tried to hide and crawl away collapsed on the floor. Tears were pouring from her eyes as she felt the pain of the girl. Others in the room lifted trembling fingers to their cheeks to find their own salty tears mysteriously there. Even one of her bullies. The note grew and grew. From mezzo forte to forte and then again in volume to fortissimo.Even then it continued to grow. It was never ending and the sadness and pain of it soon became unbearable. She had ceased to breath. It was one long sustained note of anguish. Many of the students began to cover their ears, trying to block out that one note, but they were unsuccessful. It penetrated their ears and assaulted their minds. She continued to get louder and louder. Those closest to her slapped hands over their ears only to find blood. The frequency had caused their eardrums to burst.

    All eyes on her. Forced to care. Screams of pain.

    Pain filled and unending note of sadness.

    Her note hit it’s climax, and she lifted a finger slowly, the blood still dripping from it. She pointed to the board, her dull eyes still on that fixed point. Her voice was far too loud. People all around the hall could hear her and were wondering what could be happening. The students of the classroom were screaming. They were sure they were going to die. Administrators were being called and police officers paged. Her note stopped suddenly and all eyes looked to her. Two streams of tears fell perfectly down her hallow cheeks, dripping from her chin. And then her song started. It was a shout. A musical shout as if sung by a fallen angel.

    In pain I have cried
    Wishing, always wishing to have died.
    I live on and on
    The world’s silent pawn.

    You don’t care
    A thought I can’t bear.
    You don’t care
    No matter how long I stare.

    You laugh and continue
    While I’m left with no venue,
    No place of my own
    My face you condone.

    And so I sing
    My song I must bring.
    You still will not care
    And so I will tear.

    I will be gone forever.
    And ever and ever.
    You won’t cry or care.
    My soul I will tear.

    Heaven or hell is no matter
    Away from this earth, I will take the latter.
    So live while I die
    This is my last cry.


    A haunted melody of haunted thoughts. Tears for each person in the world. The girl let her hand fall. It silently reached her side and stayed for a mere second. For a mere second, there she stood. Tears down her cheeks, and pain in her once emotionless face. Her notes broke. She sobbed, choked. Then, a look of shock passed her face. All was silent as the class and the teacher watched this girl clutch her chest with her bleeding hands. More tears and an ironic smile. The first anyone had seen on her face. And then she fell.

    All eyes on her. Every thought for her.

    Dying pain on a dying face.

    She fell. Backwards she fell with her arms coming out in front of her as if to catch the air. Her hair too reached with her hands, passing her face. Those around her saw the smile and the look of utter peace. Her tears remained in the air as she fell backwards, slowly… slowly. Her eyes closed, her long lashes touching her cheek. Hands caught her back and laid her on the ground. Eyes looked down at her on the floor. A fallen angel laid at peace. Her hair spread out across the linoleum like a pillow. Arms resting beside her, the blood forming puddles where her fingers lay. Droplets of tears clung to those lashes, although the stream had stopped. A smile remained on her lips.

    All eyes on her. All thoughts caring.

    Peace.

    The chaos couldn’t disturb her. Nothing could as she lay there. The students didn’t need anyone to tell them. She was dead.

    *

    The funeral was held that week and no one attended but that single class of students and the girls mother. The bullies brought flowers to leave on the grave site while many just left their tears. Within a couple weeks, everyone had forgotten. Rarely anyone stopped by the grave. A single boy who had teased her came annually, always leaving a rose behind. But other than him, no one came.

    No one stopped. No one cared.

    Forgotten on earth.

    Happy in heaven because at one point, someone had cared.