From the carousel of random ideas comes some order - a subtle awareness of who I am under the flow of thoughts with their loose connections to my waking life. After a few moments more I begin to analyze them in a lazy way, perhaps these ideas are meant to be kept. Some are composed as if from a book I once read, some are just silly. In another moment they are gone leaving no trace. If they are still in my head there is no breadcrumb trail back to them. My eyelids flicker open to the unlit room. No daylight. I close them again, willing the carousel to return, for my mind to tumble back to dreams, but it won't. Now the tasks of the day are demanding I think about them, find solutions, get jobs done by day's end. I am awake and there is no retreat. I steal a glance at the pointless alarm clock, glowing red, and reach out to turn off the buzzer. Once 6:30 am was a rude awakening, now it is an impossible target.

" Mom, I'm up!" I yell on my way down to the kitchen and decided to fix myself a bowl of cereal. I sat at the dining room table, watching the colorful wheels of cereal float around in the bowl full of milk. I went back into my room and got into to my blue jeans, my blue tank top and my black cardigan. And looked at my old backpack. My backpack was old denim, deeply unfashionable and too small for all my books. I crammed it to bursting and hauled it onto my back. Then set off for school thinking of what I would say when my friends commented on it. It wasn't quite old enough to be retro, it wasn't small enough to be cute, but at least it didn't smell bad. I'd just have to blame my Mom, that usually worked.

" Everyone there is a new student Mic. Raise your hand... Okay, treat him as an equal... Okay, let's start class..." Our first hour teacher says. Right in front of me is Mic, the new student. He almost belonged, but not quite. He dressed in scrubby jeans like all the others and wore a t-shirt from some band that had been in fashion before he was born. His hair was spiked like some boy-band pre-madonna, but something about his eyes was just book-ish. Like inside that persona was a little nerd. After class was over I met up with Andre so we can go to our next class together. going to his locker a few lockers down I see Mic having trouble opening it.

" Babe, go help him out. It'll be good if you had guy friends." I say with a big smile grabbing his arm.

" Okay, okay." He says with a smile, going over to him, one time pointing back at me. after helping him open up the locker. They both walk back to me, Mic looks a little embarrassed and looks away.

" Hi, I'm Ace were in the first hour together, I hope we can be friends," I say as I wave, and hold my books to my chest. For a minute he doesn't say anything and he just looks to the side.

" Hey babe, we should get to class the first bell should ring any second." We get to class before the balls ring, and class goes on. The cafeteria was run by an ex-army cook who loved bleach. Even the aroma of the mediocre food was overpowered by the scent of it. If you tried to lick a plate or a tray it would taste of bleach too. But at least there was a lot of food and it all arrived piping hot on the dot of noon when we all filed in to get it. She even did stuff like tacos. Sometimes I would try to sneak some food out of the cafeteria and devour it away from the bleach smell, then it didn't taste half bad. It's amazing the effect that smell had on the taste buds.

" Hey babe, do you think we should go over to Mic and eat with him? He pushed away everyone who came near him, even the popular people." Andre says he sits down with his tray.

" Do you really think so, maybe he really wants to be alone." I say grabbing his hand on the table, I look into his serious eyes. " Okay, let's go." His serious face turns into happy. We stand up and go over to Mic, who's sitting alone at the table alone.

" Hey, how's the food?" Andre asks him, and he just looks at me and says nothing. His glare makes me uncomfortable, I look around seeing Alvapriya and Keon eating together. Mic starts talking to Andre, leaving me completely out of the convocation. Just sitting there lonely again eating my food, just like in middle school. If it wasn't for Andrea I don't think I would have any friends, my life would be completely different. I remember every day after school, I lie down on my comfortable couch reading books and watching talk shows; no communication with friends or others. Loneliness brings life into another realm, quietness is the new beginning for humankind to think more and think from themselves. But, in a way It's scary and frightening, knowing no one was there for you. But, the last week before school ended Andre really started to talk to me and noticed me.

The end of the school day, I felt lonely, being ignored. This loneliness is a vice on my heart, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a constant pain. I know I shouldn't feel lonely, or even jealous but I feel like Mic put a wall between Andre and I. I took the bus home because I didn't want to feel like I was just a picture on the wall, just agreeing with everything Andre says.

 The few people sitting on the bus swamp the cab with muddied silence. The seats and windows shake with every small bump in the ragged pavement, jostling the passengers back and forth. The air conditioning pumps through only a few filters, whistling with the extreme pressure. It smells slightly of diluted gas. As the world slides by the window, there are small movements from amongst the passengers. Someone shifts in their seat, there's a little cough and a mild 'bless you'. The brakes squeak and everyone lurches forward as the bus comes to a stop.

When I get home it was an hour before dinner, looking around the kitchen I look at the ingredients we have, an idea pops into my head. Mushroom soup, bitter greens with tomatoes the size of peas, rare roast beef slices as thin as paper, noodles in a green sauce, cheese that melts on your tongue served with sweet blue grapes. I place the bowls on the table, gathering everyone.