Prologue

His name was Jay. Jay Willows. Since he was in junior high school, he seemed to stop existing. Any student absent-mindedly flipping through the pages of their yearbook might find his expressionless, unremarkable face in it and may vaguely recall the boy. And most wouldn’t get past that. He wasn’t very noticeable. Dull dirty blonde hair, pale, thin...but they might clearly recall his eyes, which were an oddly deep shade of blue. He wouldn’t like that if he knew. He didn’t want to be remembered at all. He was perfectly content with what little he (unwillingly) did at his school. Which was why he didn’t care when his parents told him they were moving away. He was running out of room in his notebook anyway, and there weren’t many especially interesting people there. So he didn’t care...he got to keep his bed, and his belongings. They were just going to be somewhere else. That was fine. As long as everything was the same in that department, he could get through whatever fresh Hell might appear in his life across the country vertically, from Maine to North Carolina. Not the exact opposite, but still probably different.

So that was why he was walking silently to the large, uncomfortably fancy looking school building with 'Rosethorn High' written on it. A perfect way to start his Junior year. He recalled that, back when he actually spoke and cared, he would get irritated when asked if he skipped a grade because he was always a year younger than normal. That was simply because he was born in June. He sighed almost silently and walked into the building.

Inside, it looked just as prestigious in an out-of-place way that Jay sort of liked. Briefly, he wondered if it were intended to look more impressive than the town it was built in. Most likely. He’d already been signed in, so he made his way silently to the auditorium to wait. He knew he probably wasn’t allowed to (he heard an ear-drum bursting racket from the gymnasium and assumed that they were supposed to go in there), but the one disadvantage of being new was that people always talked about the new student. So he thought, anyway. Perhaps nobody would care. But he wasn’t taking chances. Jay took a moment to observe the rather large auditorium. It was easily two dozen yards long, a quarter of that space taken up by a stage he assumed was used by the drama class. There were hundreds of seats in rows with space in the middle of these rows for walking down to or away from the stage.

He sat down and pulled his notebook out from his backpack. It was quite worse for wear, the purple cover worn and stained with pencil marks from doodles or poems he’d make, then attempt to erase.

He flipped it open to the most recently used page.

'Mason Coen. Black hair, brown eyes. Taller than most of his friends, but slightly overweight. Outgoing, charismatic, loud. Doesn’t seem to take school work very seriously, but makes decent to above average grades.
Prediction: He may become a teacher himself, and perhaps a good one. Laid back, lenient, but stern when needed.'

He knew some of his predictions would probably be off the mark, but it was the best he could do with some of them. Others usually had more details. Like Hayley Ibarra, who he was sure would be a wildlife foundation worker. Or Stephen Bennett, who no doubt in Jay’s mind would probably divorce at least twice and end up in jail for theft. The latter's prediction was spite.

And he hadn’t gotten to know these people beyond observing them for a few days. Sometimes even weeks if the object of his habit was interesting or had more than the average amount of complexities and quirks.

Why did he do this? Because each of their lived had a meaning. Positive or negative, he knew that each of these people would have a lasting impact on the town, the city...perhaps even the state or country! The thought itself was exciting enough to bring a ghost of a smile to his pale face.

He didn’t care about his own life. These people mattered. They just didn’t know it yet. But Jay did. He knew it. Of course, he also knew that this fascination with other people only stemmed from his firm belief that his own life didn’t matter. It had no meaning. But, again, that was okay. Because these other people did. The bell rang, and he realized with a wince that he hadn’t stopped to receive his class schedule.

Reviews

[Zoya]

Ooh, interesting. Quite zany that Jay is. You've created some fair amount of suspense in the prologue itself. Well done!

[E.K. Sakurazaka]

Thanks a lot! I already have four chapters finished, so I'll probably post the first tomorrow.

[Zoya]

would be glad to read it ^-^ and you're most welcome