《The Demons That I See》


 Chapter 1: Motivation

    The Demons That I See


    1


    Motivation


    My alarm clock wakes my mom up, and I begin to hear her footsteps coming from the hall. Knowing she was going to turn the light on when she opened the door, I pulled my red covers over my head, trying to block the blinding light.


    ¡°Wake up Grayson, it¡¯s time for school!¡±


    I only know one person who¡¯s excited for the morning, and thats my mom, Not even dad was as excited as she was. Or at least, when he was with her. I turn my head over, groaning from her bright voice in the morning. I love my mom, I always have, and I always will.


    ¡°Ugh why mom, can¡¯t I just sleep the day away?¡±


    I knew her answer was going to be a no, and she gives me the rundown like always.


    ¡°You¡¯ll never make it in this world, unless you fin-¡±


    I cut her off, ¡°Find your motivation for the day, I know mom. The problem is, I am still searching.¡±


    I take the covers off of my head, allowing the cold air to cover my body. My mom leaves the room, leaving me alone in my room. I look back at my bed, fighting with myself to not jump underneath the covers. Glancing over at my phone, I notice the time is 6:30 am, nearly thirty minutes until my bus arrives. I quickly wash up with warm water from the sink, the water turning cold as the air moved around me. I then brush my teeth, looking at my brown skin, black tangled hair, and my brown eyes. I throw on a red polo shirt, some black jeans, and my red and white shoes on for the day. Of course, I wasn¡¯t paying attention to the weather app on my phone, and when I stepped outside it felt like antarctica was right next door. Noticing my neighbor with a coat and cap on, I quickly step inside to grab my orange hoodie in my closet. I hardly go in there, and I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if I found a spider on one of my coats. The hoodie fits me perfectly, and I wait outside for the bus, staring at the frost on the grass. My bus then arrives, and I fall asleep. Thank God I brought my pick with me, and I begin touching my hair up from it being squashed by the window I was leaning on. Everyone has their own phone out, making me want to reach into my pocket to grab it. Maybe a random girl on social media sent me a text, or perhaps my friend wanted to talk to me about something. I reached into my pocket to find¡­..nothing.


    ¡°Huh, where¡¯s my phone?¡±


    I have my wallet, along with my keys, and pick however, no phone. I groan at the idea that I left it at home, and I am forced to look out of the window. Everyone is obsessed with their phones, surprisingly though no one actually goes out of their house anymore to see a friend down the street. I mostly use mine for writing however, I will go to the library to write a new poem I¡¯ve been keeping in my head. My friend Jerome then pokes his head above the seat, smiling at how fast I was picking out my hair. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Hey Grayson, do you have your phone with you?¡±


    I sigh, continuing to pick out my hair. ¡°No man, I forgot it this morning. Mom woke me up, and I was rushing out of the house to catch the bus.¡±


    He puts his phone close to my face, ¡°Yeah man, I sent you like five texts trying to get your attention, but you ignored them because-¡±.


    I look at him, his hair was braided, his eyes were the same color as mine, however his skin was a bit darker.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have my phone, right.¡± He chuckles,


    ¡°Yeah man, how do you expect to get a girl if you don¡¯t carry your phone with you?¡±


    I chuckle back at him ¡°Says the guy who¡¯s putting on weight¡±.


    We both laugh at my joke, and after a while, we arrive at school.


    ¡°Hey man, I¡¯ll catch up with you later¡± I say waving as I¡¯m walking. Jerome responds,


    ¡°Yeah, and make sure you turn in that paper later on, it¡¯s due today¡±, while pointing his finger in the air.


    I shake my head, knowing that I didn¡¯t start on the work yet. The classroom wasn¡¯t big, and about fourteen students showed up for english. I sighed, being the first one to show up for the day. Mr.Gary waved at me, while putting papers on his desk.


    ¡°I see you¡¯re the first one to show up,¡± he says, lifting his head in my direction.


    ¡°Yes sir¡±. I say quietly ¡°I¡¯m always the first one here.¡±


    He then walks towards me,


    ¡°Ah, but that shows that you are an honorable student, I¡¯m sure your mother is proud of you yes?¡±


    I laugh ¡°Well proud is one way to put it, although I¡¯m sure she is Mr.Gary.¡±


    He then nods his head, and walks out the classroom to the printer down the hall. The rest of the class shows up, all showing signs of boredom and despair. I keep my eyes focused on the board though, interested in what Mr.Gary has to say. Some of the students laughed, not noticing that their screens were bright enough to see. Mr.Gary takes the phones away each time he sees it, and would stash it in his desk until class was over. One student does it, and then another, and then another.


    ¡°Guys this is ridiculous, how often do you have to be on your phones?¡±


    Mr.Gary stops in the middle of the classroom, hands on his hips.


    ¡°Everyday I come in here, it¡¯s the same one¡¯s on their pho-¡±


    A text ringtone goes through the class, a student named Riley then pulls his phone out. He looks at his phone, smiling at what he sees.


    ¡°You see this guys, this is what a real text looks like¡±,he says as he turns his phone around.


    A pornographic picture shows up, making some of the guys blush.


    ¡°Riley that is enough, now hand over the phone!!¡± Mr.Gary says sounding angry, and fed up over the disruptions.


    Riley grins at the teacher, and turns his phone around. His smile then fades, and his eyes begin to widen. One student shouts out,


    ¡°That girl took your heart out didn¡¯t it Riley?¡±


    Another, a female student says,


    ¡°He¡¯s probably never seen a girl¡¯s boobs before, you know he¡¯s a virgin.¡±


    Then out of nowhere, Riley begins to scream, so much that it can be heard outside of the hallway. My head turns to him, the grin he has is gone, and a face of fear replaced it.

 Chapter 2: Virus

    Chapter 2: Virus


    The class, no the school talked about Riley for the whole day, even some of the teachers peaked their interest in it. Though it was probably about his suspension, and not about the fact of him screaming in the middle of class. It was strange, like he was really afraid of what was on that phone. I meet with Jerome in the hallway by the lockers, listening to the whispers passing around the school.


    ¡°I heard he showed porn in the classroom and screamed, probably because he couldn¡¯t handle it.¡±


    One guy said in response to his three friends. They all wore the school jackets, seniors, and they played for the football team. Ronald, the leader of the ¡°pack¡±, blonde, fair skinned, and blue eyes. He always attracted the girls whenever they walked by, he even gets notes that reads ¡°I love you¡± at the top all of the time. Then there¡¯s Mike, he has brown hair, fair skinned, and green eyes. They were dull though, like a crayon in a box. Last but not least, there¡¯s Wayne. His family is from another country, and he has black hair, along with brown eyes. His skin was tanned, and he kept his hair curly. He wanted to be different, unlike Ronald and Wayne, whose hair was either comed or spiked. He doesn¡¯t talk much, and he¡¯s more of the sweet kind of guy. Usually Ronald and Mike would pick on him for being too nice, but he would shrug them off. ¡°Jocks¡±, or at least that¡¯s what high school would call them. They would win games for the high school, and would get away with anything if they wanted to. Ronald then looks at me and Jerome, grinning at us. He points us out to Mike and Wayne, and only Mike starts grinning. Wayne rolls his eyes, and he starts looking at the girls in groups, waving at them to get a response. Mike and Ronald begin to make jacking off motions, and showing facial expressions with it. I roll my eyes in disgust, as Jerome ignores them, continuing our conversation.


    ¡°Dude I just heard Riley was in the middle of class screaming over porn, that must¡¯ve been hilarious!! To see his face from that must¡¯ve been priceless!¡±


    Tears begin to come from Jerome¡¯s face as he bursts out laughing.


    ¡°Shhh would you keep it down, you¡¯re laughing a bit too loud.¡±


    I whisper in embarrassment. Jerome looks up


    ¡°Oh, isn¡¯t that the girl you¡¯re trying to date?¡±


    I turn around, seeing her walk down the hall. Her hips moved side to side however, she held her books closely to her chest. Thea Turner, a smart, yet beautiful girl. Her skin was light, her eyes changed color from green to amber, and her hair is brown, curly, and long. She wore black glasses, a gray hoodie, white shoes, and black tights. A breath escapes me


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s her.¡±


    I wave to her, trying my hardest not to appear like a creep. She looks in my direction, waving back at me without a smile, and then walking past me. Her perfume smelled like strawberries, enough to make a smile form around my face.


    ¡°Dude, you look like a creep.¡± I hear Jerome say jokingly. I sneer back at him ¡°Shut up man, I can¡¯t help it.¡± Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Jerome looks back at his phone,


    ¡°You look like that guy who¡¯s trying to sell drugs. You know with the green beenie, the hoodie and baggy pants, shaggy gray beard and all, waving at his next victim. You know they made a meme for that right?¡±


    I shake my head


    ¡°They make a meme out of everything, I wouldn¡¯t be surpris-?¡±


    He turns his phone in my direction


    ¡°Nah see the only difference is that this is directly meant for you.¡±


    I look back at him, his face showing a smirk


    ¡°Come on man really? Cut me some slack, I¡¯m trying my best here.¡±


    ¡®Exactly, you¡¯re trying too hard man, you need to loosen up, and find a way to relax.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s easy for you to say, you¡¯re relaxed all the time.¡¯


    ¡®Yeah man,¡¯ he says ¡®I just go with the flow, and not giving a single care in the world.¡¯


    I shake my head, grinning at what he says. ¡°Yeah man, that¡¯s all you.¡±


    We find out later on that Riley would be suspended for three days, very minor for what he did in the class. His scream continues to echo in my mind, it was like he was in complete shock. Riley usually never acts like that within class, he¡¯s usually the ¡°hype-beat¡± kind of guy of the classroom, and would make the class feel lighter that what it actually is. He would make you laugh, even when you¡¯re having a bad day. Doing so makes him receive more suspensions, however I don¡¯t think he generally cares. Many people don¡¯t care about their education, most of them just want entertainment in their lives. They don¡¯t care about politics, or the world, or how blessed they should feel everyday. It¡¯s more about what this celebrity does, or what¡¯s the newest device to come out. We spend more time on our phones, than we do in our lives. It consumes us, and it dumbs us down everyday. Mankind says it¡¯s moving it¡¯s foot forward, but are we actually confused as to what¡¯s forward or reverse? I write this thought down in my notebook, saving it later for my laptop at home. The bus reaches my house within the next hour, and I throw my stuff down in the corner of my room. My laptop turns on, the fan sounding louder than a human going through a cold, and the keys are full of dust and lint.


    ¡°I really should clean this thing.¡±


    I said to myself, before brushing it off to open my documents. So far I have thirty one poems, and now adding to the list will be thirty two.


    ¡°The title would be¡­...Virus!¡±


    I shout out loud. I finish the poem within thirty minutes, and I then sit back in the chair to relax, it giving an old squeaky sound. An email notification pops up on my laptop, the sound instantly making me rise up. I double click the email icon, not doing so for months. I forgot how the app opens, and I soon remember the blue envelope showing at the start up menu. I read the email before opening it, scratching my head at the details.


    ¡®hwiymylnfurlopenmeinvir@....¡¯


    ¡°I don¡¯t know who this is, and how did they get my email address?¡±


    I hover my mouse over it, something telling me not to click it. Curiosity takes over however, and I click on the email, showing nothing but words with a link saying,


    ¡°PLEASE CLICK ME¡±


    In all caps. My hand hesitates to click the text link, not knowing who this was from. It felt like minutes passed before I decided to click the link.


    ¡°F@#$ it!¡±


    I said, quickly realizing my mother was downstairs. Nothing happens until my laptop goes black.


    ¡°Oh no, come on you stupid thing! Gah I knew I should¡¯ve bought that laptop on sale!¡±


    I begin to smack the side of the computer until I see a text icon show up. My computer screen was still blank, and nothing but the white text box shows up. I stare at the screen until I see words begin to appear. My eyes widen as I see the text says,


    ¡°Hello Grayson¡±.