Strange Specimen of Mine

Not one to give in to conformity - and ogling some guy seemed to fall into that category - I felt betrayed by my own mind. I couldn't peal myself from him, one glance and I wanted more. He had copper skin and flowing, black hair; shiny and full, it covered a good portion of his face. He sported ebony combat boots and a grey heavy-metal tee, which seemed like overkill, but I was definitely not against it. Curiosity drew me in. The boy socialized with everyone, clearly a hit among his peers; they watched him, faces painted with giddiness as he performed a self-deprecating joke. They're laughter filled him for a moment, and then he moved on, wandering the room to find another group to talk to. His face seemingly hopeful, ambitious, as if he was looking for something in these encounters. I witnessed him as he went through the same humiliation with yet another set of acquaintances. He remained somehow unfazed. An eccentric soldier in a battlefield of insecurities, he clung to his dignity in spite of any awkward pauses or harsh responses. In fact, he actually appeared to be enjoying himself.

I watched the boy every day after that, as I waited in between classes. He became my own personal specimen. Analyzing his behavior daily, I became increasingly wondrous about his life. My specimen was a complex one; never letting down his friends, but never actually having any true friends at the same time. One day, I took a closer look at the boy; his mouth claimed one thing, but his body another. His eyes sparkled with innocence as he spoke. Once he was alone, though, a certain fog seemed to linger inside his head. Many people attempt to shove away feelings they don't want to own, but you can't delete your history in life; sometimes the darkest emotions come from the seemingly happiest people. I felt attached and intrigued. I knew I was becoming too involved, but I had to know more about his life.

The very next day, the boy came up missing. He hadn't missed a single day of school since I'd began my creepy lurking from afar. I was slightly concerned for the boy whom I had never actually met. I scanned the area, looking everywhere, and finally came to the realization that there must be something really wrong. Until I heard a voice that made me stop in my tracks; "It's nice to be the observer and not the observed for a change." A genuine grin flashed across his face. My heart jolted nearly out of my chest as I stared at him, in a daze. Movements and senses had been abandoned at the first hint of his voice, so I stared back at him dopily, caught up in the early stages of shock.