Lance shifted his weight trying his best not to fall from where he was. He was again in this large tree attempting to retrieve his shoes. Lance didn't bother getting mad anymore this was the fifteenth times this month. Lance clung to the tree branch for dear life and no matter how many times he did it, being six feet of the ground was unsettling.

Lance carefully retrieved his shoes and slid his body back toward the base of the tree. Lance then heard a large crack. Almost immediately he felt his face going downward and his distant to the ground shrinking fast. He made a last ditch effort for a nearby branch.

Lance barely caught it in time as it hit the ground with a loud and quick thump. Lance hung with one arm on the branch, while the other held his shoes. He quickly dropped them and got a better grip, and he moved to the base once more and descended quickly.

Damn Lance cursed in his head. He examined his arms. There usually tan shine was now replaced with a raw red that covered his lower arms to the palms of his hands. It, however, did little to hide the marks lining his arms.

Lance looked around after nursing his wounds. He wanted desperately to find the culprits, but he would never know you to suspect. Lance knew all too well in this school there are no “friends” waiting for him. The only people here are enemies. Lance thought bitterly. Just the thought made his mouth tasted awful. He didn’t like having this kind of mindset, but it wouldn’t change the reality of his situation.

Lance quickly moved away from the old maple tree; he had climbed, and turn the corner of his school. He had walked a good while before he saw the natural shine of the gates. Though every time Lance saw it, he was reminded of the prison he lived in and how much he hated this place.

Lance mind wandered out to more bitter thoughts. That day my life was decided Lance thought angrily. Lance at a young age learned of his inability to find the said “door” inside of himself much less "God." The doctors were baffled. He was apparently a unique child. Which now that Lance thought about it says this “This kid's life is over or how many will pity him or the worst he has been forsaken by God.” Their eyes that day had said it all.

Lance passed the corner of the building and found himself in the halls. At first, he was glad to see them, but then the silent halls were filled with a prolonged ringing. Then the figures came. Lance at his young age of 7 lost his ability to see humans as humans. Instead, all he saw were black figures without features and nothing that keeps them apart as individuals. Everyone was the same, none of them ever stuck out. Their voices, thankfully, were a deciding factor for gender. Lance listened well and used that as the most distinct trait for each shadow. Though he could never tell again after that.

They all acted the same around him and Lance around them. Lance grew a headache just thinking about it. He quickly rounded a corner to escape all the shadows that were looking at him with their blank white eyes. Lance quickly found the bathroom, His familiar place of residing until the second bell rang or there were few moments before it did to get to class.

Lance passed the mirror and once again his face was the only thing he could see. His short, yet thick black hair and his tan skin. His eyes, however, he could have gone without seeing. They looked like the eyes of a dead fish. The never seemed warm and always gave him a cold feeling just seeing them.

Lance then looked over the rest of himself. He was above average height for a 17-year-old. Though it was a guess. All the shadows had the same height. He was taller than them so that is why he figured above average.

His clothing was always ugly. Just a random color shirt and jeans, He had no one to impress nor did he feel the need to put in effort over clothes. His moment was interrupted when the second bell rang. Lance cursed and moved on to his class.

He enters the room and as usual, no one seems to care. Not even the teacher paid him any mind and….suddenly Lance stopped dead in his tracks. In his usual seat, next to the window, sat a blob of black. It turned his face to him. He never had this before. Had the teacher finally started to torment me too? Lance thought. He gathered the will to protest, but the shadow raised its hand and stopped him before he could.

“Teacher, how long are you going to let this guy stand here?” She asked. The feminine voice had caught him off guard. The teacher, who was in the middle of writing something, turned and looked at me.

“Ah, you're right.” The teacher responded without a care. He then pointed his finger at Lance. “You, as punishment for being late, shall stand in the hallway till the bell.” I could tell even without the face. The person was smiling as were all the other kids.They were laughing, but not letting it out.

Lance could feel the disgust building in him. Lance didn’t heist. He moved out into the hall and stood there. “All this because of no stinking door huh,” Lance grumbled out loud. He had always dealt with this and never thought it was strange until things became more active as he ended up in fights for not having the "door." Lance rubbed the scar on his cheek. When one such event has led to a knife being drawn and used against him. He shuddered at the memory. The cops had shown up in time to stop it, but no charge was pressed against them.

He spent the time daydreaming Though none of them were good. He could've just headed home, but no one would be waiting for him. His father determined to find a cure for his “disease” left on a journey. His mother had made a wish shortly after his “disease” was found out and died soon after. He never really got attached to his mom or father, so when they both left he didn’t feel anything about it.

Then suddenly the door to the room swung open, and the shadows came bursting out. He looked at the clock down the hall and realized class was over. Now it was lunch, yet Lance's hunger was far away and the least of his worries. Lance moved away from the wall, but a shadow was blocking him.

Lance annoyed, placed a frown on his face. “What do you want?” he said clearly not willing to be dealing with this. The shadow didn't budge, and then a familiar voice came out of it.

“Are you ok with how you are treated?” The shadow that had taken my seat said. Lance was taken by surprise. No one had asked him before. She must be new here. Lance thought. He felt no need to answer. For all, he knew this could be a trap to get into a group of shadows.

“Doesn’t matter what I think. Even if I did voice it no one would care or listen” Lance said as a matter of fact. He had long given up on trying to persuade anyone to his cause or to help him. He didn’t trust humans, and Lance didn't care to hear them try.

“That's just not right!” The shadow yelled. Lance jumped back and was having a massive mental pause. Lance couldn’t think. His mind went blank, and he didn’t know how to respond.

“Ah I need lunch,” Lance quickly sprinted away and was glad to be get away from the weird shadow. He couldn't think of what to say, so running was the best option. Lance hoped never to run into “her” again. Thought he would never notice “her” in a crowd anyway.

Lance found his way into the lunchroom. Like always the lunchroom was big and well lit though it still smelled like old leaves. Lance skillfully maneuvered down the hall though he doubted he went unnoticed. He found his way up to the serving area, Where he got soup, with some fruit and some milk. Lance sat in the back. At his table, near the back, Lance sat there so he could foresee any violence that came his way. He also was glad not to be near anyone, as he never had anything to say. Lance’s peace was soon ruined by a soft thump a crossed his small square table.

He looked up to see a familiar shadow at this point. He noticed the usual blank white eyes, were replaced with Amber colored eyes.

“You are surprisingly easy to find,” “she,” said. “She” sat down and continued to look at him. The stare only made Lance like she was waiting to say a punch line or something. He felt uneasy and couldn't guess what she wanted.

Instead of saying her purpose she began to eat like it was normal for her to do it or even be there. Lance sighed then started to eat. He felt the liquid go down his throat, but as usual, he didn’t taste anything. The food was just food; it never was great or terrible. At first, he thought someone might be playing a joke on him, but the shadows reacted differently to the food every day, so it was just him.

He mechanically finished the food and felt a wave of dissatisfaction wash over him. Lance was sick of this routine but knew he couldn't do anything about it. His own worthless sickened him, and that made sitting in this uncomfortable place all the more painful. He looked at the shadow and once again sighed. Lance got up and walked away from the table. He felt nothing about it and mechanically finished school like normal.