Are you ok? she asked.

Mortis looked over at the girl that had just spoken to him. Her long brownish black hair flowing down over her shoulders, and coming to large curls near the ends of her hair, she was attractive to say the least. Her small Asian build was, beautiful. The soft features of her face curiously looked at him. The sun out here reflected off of her white long sleeved shirt making his eyes hurt more than usual. Mortis stood on the concrete outdoor hallway waiting to get in to English class. He just stood there looking in to her brown eyes outlined with black eye liner.

Im fine. He lied, one of the many similar lies he would say every time anyone asked that. He was well trained on what to say, he had several years of practice saying he was fine, he was ok, he was good, just thinking about every time he said those words filled him with disgust.

Mortis always dressed how he felt, he always wore black. He would mix in other colors with it every now and then, but his clothes were always the same; always black. It ironically contrasted his bleach white hair. He did it himself; he always did things by himself. He was wearing long sleeves like he usually did, to hide the scars he had amassed over the years.

You can go in now. She said to him. He took one last look into her eyes, wishing he could see what people thought. No, that wasnt his gift his was different, his was worse. Thats why he was so dark.

Mortis stepped into the class, he hated English. The teacher was stupid, he already knew all of this, and the people around him werent even worth wasting time talking to. The work they had to do in the class was beneath him and he knew it, so he chose not to do it. It was his choice not to do it and it was so pointless. His life had only one purpose thanks to his gift, there was only one course of action he could take.

Mortis took the same seat he took every day, he looked around the same way he did every day, and saw the same thing he saw every day. Tables were spread throughout the class with two people at most, but the occasional table had three or even four because of classroom overcrowding; thank you American government.

As the class started the usual boredom set in to mix with the usual headache, Mortis looked around the class at all the people and waited for his gift to begin its work. He saw a car crash killing those two, diabetes for that one, lung cancer from those that smoke, suicide for her because her boyfriend will dump her. I turns out it is hard to be close to people when you see the way theyre going to die. Trying to warn people is a lost cause; he talked someone away from painting the wall red with a shotgun only to see them get hit by a bus an hour later. On occasion he cant help himself from a slight chuckle as, with his dying breath his friend gives his ex-wife the finger and tells her to go to hell, she kills herself soon after.

Mortis rolled his eyes as the English teacher droned on and on. All he wants to do is yell, have fun with the rest of your life until you get so fat your body gives out from the strain. Oh but no he just stays quiet, always quiet. The bell screams into his head, grinding on the inside. He stands up from his seat grabbing his back pack the same way he does every day, steps to the side and pushes his chair in. Mortis slowly lets out his breath, this sucks he thought. No change, ever. Im just so done with everything he rolls his eyes and begins to walk to History, a class he should be excellent at, but as he is continually reminded he is a worthless, lazy person that will never amount to anything. He reminds himself again he doesnt need to care what people think; they are all going to die anyway. His life is already all planned out. Thanks to his gift he will be joining the army, the one place where he might actually be able to make a difference using his gift. The only place he might actually be accepted because of it.

He was born to be a solder, and that is exactly what he will become. Its his destiny some would say. Theres no need to know what things were like a really long time ago, all he needs to know is who they want to him to dispose of.

Mortis sat there looking at the top of the table trying not to look at the other people in the class, not wanting to see any more death, but there was never any real peace. The deaths of those he had already seen were constantly replaying in his mind over and over, unceasingly dragging his mind further into the dark.

The bell rings and Mortis gathers up his things and heads to the door to go out to lunch; the lunch he probably wont eat again. Thanks to an eating disorder he doesnt really eat very often. Mortis walks over to the corner of the room and just looks out at all the people in the room. Looking at the people, but not really seeing them. Just seeing the many ways they will die. More car accidents, oh this is new, looks like there will be another school shooting in a few days. He begins to drift, thinking of how it is odd that he cant change peoples fate, but they can change by themselves some times. Theres the shooter who gets gunned down by the cops and cries himself to death as his lungs fill with blood.

Mortis slowly drifts off to sleep to see more death in his dreams. No one bothers to wake him, theyre all too busy dealing with their own little problems and social ties that they dont even notice that someone is asleep in the lunch room.

The sound of the school bell finally wakes up Mortis. Great, now I get to hear more about why I am a failure and how my life will never amount to anything. Mortis grabbed his backpack and headed to the door, to wait to be picked up.

Mortis walked over to the silver van that was waiting for him. He stepped up and got in on the passenger side of the van, waiting for the yelling to begin.

By the time he got home his moms voice was rough from screaming at him for so long. He opens the door to the van and heads up to his room.

Mortis turned and locked his door after stepping into his room. The look of the place was bleak, black curtains, black dresser, black bed, black, black, black just like him. The room was small and mostly empty, besides some scattered clothes throughout the room. Those too were black. The blank white walls made the room feel cold despite it really being over seventy degrees.

Home, sweet home. he said to himself as he threw his backpack down on to the floor.

Mortis walked over to his bed and laid down pulling out him MP3 player, shoving the two ear buds in. he laid there waiting for the dark to come, his time to shine.

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