High school part 2

I had missed my first period class, it was sometime in the spring of my junior year and I had just walked through the double doors that connect the student parking lot to the back hallways of the school. There was nobody in sight, first period was about to end and at this hour both the students and teachers were still zombified. Then came that familiar pounding, I was standing at the juncture of two hallways which met as an “ L”. The one man stampede was approaching from my right, and once he got close enough for me to hear his chains I looked up and saw Danny blasting down the hallway, full steam ahead. Now had this been anybody else in the world I would have thought something was wrong, or at least been startled. But instead I just watched Danny pass me by like a pedestrian watches traffic as he waits to cross a highway. But Danny attempted to turn the corner at much too high a speed and lost his footing. He slammed down onto his side and skid across the hallways into the lockers, rattling the entire row of them. I started to laugh uncontrollably, trying my best to stifle it with no avail. But instead of ignoring this rudeness like he was so accustomed to doing, he sprang up with tears in his eyes and screamd “FUCK YOU!” as he kept running down the hall.

I didn’t find out what had happened to Danny’s friend until after school, from my mother. Apparently the boy (who was a member of the ‘goth party’) was severely depressed and had jumped off the roof of the Holiday Inn hotel near our school, killing himself. He was 17 years old and coincidently he was one of the few black students that attended my school. This was the first time a student from my high school had died while I was attending it so I had no idea what to expect the following morning, but what actually happened had NEVER crossed my mind. Nothing.

The following day of school was perfectly normal, not many people even knew who the boy was so most of the school didn’t even know it had happened. The school did absolutely nothing to acknowledge the tragedy, no assembly, no moment of silence, not even an announcement that it had happened at all. Throughout the day I saw about 4 or 5 people, none of whom I knew, crying. There were just enough tears being shed that some people started inquiring whether or not something was up? I told a few of my friends what I had heard but no one, including myself, knew who the kid was or even what his name was.

After my lunch period I was walking down the hallway to my Spanish class when I saw about 4 or 5 of the ‘goths’ crowded around a locker, the only reason I was ever even able to put a face on the boy was because of one of those pictures. As I passed by I caught a glimpse of one picture, a close up of the boy and his girlfriend kissing. They were both covered in makeup and seemed to have powdered their faces to appear more pale, I never understood the habits of that particular group of kids. A few candles were lit under the locker and they group of kids were chuckling madly, probably exchanging funny stories about the boy as is so common after death. It made me feel a little better to see them laughing because I knew how enraged they really were over the fact that my school would not recognize the situation. All of the sudden a teacher swooped down around the corner like a hawk and came to a skidding halt in front of the locker. “Sorry folks gotta pack up and move out.” he said, with the lamest attempt to try and make light of the situation. “What do you mean the bell isn’t going to ring for another 20 minutes. Why do we have to leave now.” asked one of the girls. “What class are you supposed to be in?” he snapped. “Study Hall, but Mrs. Pirotta said it was ok if we came and decorated his locker.” The teacher seemed at a loss for words for just a moment, then he blurted “nonsense, the candles are a fire hazard and you’re only allowed to decorate lockers on holidays.” He turned on his heels and was back around the corner before any of the kids could open their mouths. I could not even fathom how he could have been so insensitive about the subject. Why was the administration acting like this? I had no idea. As two of the girls started crying, the group blew out the candles and left, but did not take the pictures down and I though, good for them. Of course it is entirely possible that the teacher had not heard of the incident yet, however unlikely that may be, yet either way he never even game them an opportunity to explain themselves. It seemed as though the school was treating the incident like a conspiracy.