This was school, and it was class.

The teacher left the room for _one_ second. Now there was a boy jumping and hollering while doing parkour on all of the desks. Now there were other people cheering him on. She would know, she watched it all from the corner, where she thought she would be safe from it all. Until the boy leaped to her desk like somebody leaping between buildings, suddenly taking her head, and shaking it like how someone shook a piggy bank, to the point she felt her brain rattling in her skull. She didn’t say anything. Unfortunately, she’s become rather used to this kind of behavior by now.

She wasn’t sure what cued it exactly. Maybe because it was her first year spent here. Maybe because she was quiet. Maybe because she always wore the same thing.

She recalled the shock she felt on the first day, hearing students who haven’t reached middle school swearing loudly in class as if the teacher didn’t care. If so, they were right. The teacher didn’t care at all. They made obscene jokes during lunch.

They only talked about dating and other students, derogatorily more often than not.

She got used to the shallowness too.

Every day there was something new, but also nothing ever seemed to change. Which was now why she was still sitting at her desk, still getting her head rattled. It went on for about ten seconds before the boy got bored again and darted to the other side of the room honking like a goose.

Some other girls asked if she was alright, not that they really cared, since they were laughing. She simply nodded her head so they could move on to bothering the next person.

Then the door opened. The teacher was back. The boy got off the desk, still giggling like a maniac. Everyone else who was standing up, the majority, settled back into their respective seats as well. The teacher smiled and went to the front to continue discussing something about history that nobody except her seemed to actually be listening to. While somebody read a passage aloud in our textbooks with a painful slowness, grating her ears, that same boy from before yelled her name, pronouncing each syllable like it was the most ridiculous thing anybody has ever heard.

This was a joke that started since the beginning of the school year, it one could even call it that. The teacher never said anything though. Even while a group of classmates laughed like they haven’t heard it at least twenty times by now.

And she doubted anybody ever would. The most fragile sense of order has returned but she knew that all of this would continue on to the next day and the next like it always has been. And nobody will never question it.

Within a week, there will be another fight between two girls over a boy that doesn’t care for neither of them. The boys will joke about being homosexual during lunch because to them it was the peak of comedy. Slurs would get thrown around left and right. At recess, she will be walking alone to contemplate, and some adult might approach and ask if she wanted them to ask some nearby group to include her. As if she ever wanted to interact with those people. It was almost as if these kids’ minds were poisoned, and she didn’t want to taint herself either.

Class was over now. Everyone else burst out the door before she even had the time to grab all of her stuff. She was going to go home and simply say that class was ‘the same as always.’ It wasn’t as if it was a lie after all.