Carnival

The room was filled with pointless chatters. People spoke words that formed into proper sentences or of common neglected forms of grammar. When weaved together, the voices turned into what was a jumble of gibberish. If questions were asked, the probability of an obliged and one-word response would be high and given. The ceaseless noise that corrupted the room showcases an absolute impossibility of stopping. The ear-piercing movement tables go disinterested since they were but the product of careless knocks on a person’s sides that naturally hurt, of course. An addition to the noise would be groans of pain. Legs of steel chairs are dragged across the room in a casual manner, their purpose to ease the legs of students that tire from remaining standing.

Lively screeches and the shouts of games fill the corridor that was beyond the door. Their voices were loud and childish. Clearly announcing the presence of playful adolescent children. They play a friendly game of an endless tag. If not and if they lack the energy, a long lasting game would've taken place instead; a figure supposedly thought.

He was a male resident of what was before the door and in the classroom. Filled with students his age or older, a casual mix of students through calculated times or accidental ones. He could hear the beat of drums and an electric strum of guitars outside; he enjoyed the beat and tune they produced as they resonated within his heart. Vibrating and humming. Those of his year differ in large comparison of the children as his class consisted of an older batch. They had already developed largely in terms: physically and mentally. More clearer in terms of maturity and beliefs. Unlike the younger ones who just act accordingly; intentional or not.

The teen would’ve liked to claim his class as a single entity in terms of unity. They were mostly bonded together as a family would; connected thorough a single individual thread to another, gradually coming around that they were somehow connected. One way or another. It was a fact that that the bond they shared was closer than any stranger and on par with food-sharing siblings although lesser than lovers. Despite the ‘bond’ and ‘connection’ they shared however, the class is said to have divided among st themselves in factions when their unity is unnecessary that is.

His class or the classes  here in general did not separate themselves through gender or race or religion. No, they’d long gone over those petty facts. As a matter of fact, such was not even considered a problem in the first place. It was common here, where the teen lived. Perhaps beyond the more political line such differed holding different values but such held no influence here. Not under the eyes of these ‘children’.

Separated by interests and perhaps of what they found peculiar in one another. It varied from: food, sports, tv shows or books. An unsaid rule of gathering birds that flock together through the same feather. The boy was no exception and went accordingly to that rule too. He was a type of variant however. Switching in between flocks as he got along well with either. And as similarly as he got along with one towards another an individual group, he was also distanced in a similiar manner. The students did not notice but they’d unintentionally leave him out. It was a type of feeling whereupon they'd feel he belonged but at the same time differed. Giving the teen a sense of isolation. His relationships consisted of his being the approach else no one would bother for an invitation that he wouldn’t or shouldn’t receive. He could see the distance of 444 ft. and could have never bothered to close it.

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And the teen continued to drift endlessly in the wave of noise that took place at the very start of the carnival. A lively atmosphere, air-filled and coloured balloons that hung by a string’s end. The smell of food wafted the premises and the school was in a mood of celebration. Student of all classes are released from their rooms to enjoy the day. They travelled in pairs and groups. Laughter and smiles, intentions filled with excitement. The teen had taken journey to the library where it was quiet and gave off a sense of peace and isolation. He sat there, sketchbook in hand; glances at the clock: 4 and a half hours remain.

A sip of liquid and an array of tastes melt by the area of his tongue. Spending lesser than what was given. A majority on pointless objects. They’d all went to charity and as a reaction to the fact, the teen could see no reason to hold back his rare shopping spree: or so he’d like to think. The end resulted in the purchase of 2 objects instead.

Disregarding the sweat and time used up in this setting. He enjoyed no more than half of it. Strolling aloofly and blending within the ever-moving crowd. They swayed and rocked his mind to sleep. He walked like the dead; eyes ahead and a blurred focus. The booths were nicely and somewhat carefully made; its sole purpose of appeal. The speakers pound music into his mind with a choir of voices. Glancing and gliding through a crowd, a careful slip into the library. Alone, a book in hand. He disliked the discomfort that lingered but failed to express it.

Where he sat was a spot of sole isolation. The corner table of an open area where the lights shun dimly. The library itself was not small but enough so to make him feel confined in absolute serenity. It was dark, quiet and silent. The sounds could barely touch him here. His eyes glance upon the fingers that were gently placed on the cover of his book. A pencil case by his side. It was during such, this unnoticed figure of a teen failed to call; Reach to what was an offered hand.

‘What’re you doing here?’ Rhythmic steps enter the quiet library,

‘Reading,’ A simple reply.