Short story. Like really short.

A Day in the Life of Casey Nemo

There must be more to it than this, Casey thought as she sat outside of her classroom door.

She and five other classmates were working on their papers outside. Casey could never understand what went through the minds of high school teachers as they ordered a bunch of teenagers to sit out of sight with the goal of getting work done. Surely they only did it to get some peace and quiet, because it never ended with the completion of any work. It only resulted in the popular kids, whom made up her group, joking and laughing with each other while she sat a few feet away. The space was enough to distance her from them and make her feel utterly alone. Of course she had picked the space in between them over the other option; sitting close and being obviously ignored. At least this way it could look like it was her choice rather than the harsh truth that no one liked her.

This thought was what brought Casey to her current juncture. There has to be more than this. She scribbled small circles on the notebook she had balanced on her knees, blinking slowly as she thought. She was never the girl to get noticed. Sometimes she wondered if anyone actually saw her as she walked through the long, twisting halls between classes. Perhaps she had developed the ability to blend into the wall? She had no friends, no one that smiled or said hi. Not even the teachers. In every aspect she was average, so average even the school system overlooked her. Countless times they had forgotten to change her grade as the new terms started, and even forgot to issue her a new ID card.

She was the kind of girl who could go all day without speaking and no one would even notice.

The bell rang and her fellow students made their way to the cafeteria for lunch in a loud, boisterous, and singular movement. Casey picked up her bag from the classroom and followed slowly. Lunch was a time she hated most. In class someone was forced to sit next to you, and even if they didn’t talk to you it wasn’t as obvious to the rest of the world that you were alone. Lunch was a time where everyone sat with their friends and had enjoyable conversations. She just sat alone, trying not to get too close to a group lest she suffer their demeaning glances that said ‘Why is she getting so close to us?’  

As she bought her lunch and found a place to sit, strategically placed next to the door in order to avoid the end-of-lunch rush, she thought of her home life. It wasn’t much different from school. Though she was an only child, and therefore should be entitled to her parents’ attentions, she mainly spent the days in her room. She watched her favorite shows on her computer and read books. Casey always felt that it was so much easier to connect to fictional characters than to real life people.

When lunch was over, Casey dumped her trash in one of the various trashcans and headed for the door. As she rounded a lunch table, a large boy who was yelling to his friend across the lunchroom ran into her and dropped his tray full of food at her feet, splattering leftover spaghetti all over her pants and shoes.

“Aw dude,” the boy said, stooping down to grab his tray.

Casey hesitated for a moment, thinking that he might apologize to her. Instead he only moved around her, his eyes never even looking at her face.

“Clean up on isle three,” he bellowed, causing a wave of laughter through his friends.

Casey stood for a moment, slightly surprised that she wasn’t even noticeable enough to be made fun of. She shouldered her bag again and walked out the door, trying not to tear up at her ruined shoes and jeans.

At the end of the school day she exited the building, her normal frown on her face. Her mother would say that was why no one wanted to approach her, because they were too afraid that she was angry. But Casey knew better. They couldn’t think her frown was angry if they never even looked at her in the first place.

Casey walked down the street, thinking for the third time that day that there must be more than this. How could life be so drab for someone, that they weren’t even granted friends? She clenched her fists at the thought of how unfair it all was. Why her? Why was it her life that had to be so lonely?

As she moved off of the school premises she failed to notice a boy about her age who was saying her name. She passed by his outstretched hand, her mind only on how unfair her world was.

Once she reached the bottom of the road that led solely to her school, she moved into the crosswalk, her eyes on the asphalt that was disappearing under her stride. The frown was still on her face as the tires screeched and horn blared, an SUV trying to swerve out of the way. She looked up just before it hit her, her eyes dull as though she had already been killed.

The following Monday, the school was holding a small service in the gym for Casey Nemo. Most students that passed through stopped at the table that was heaped with flowers and a large picture of Casey taken when she was at summer camp a few years ago. It was the only picture her parents could find of her smiling. Some students helped light the candles that lined the table and others touched the flowers briefly.

No one said much, and no one cried.

One boy, from a grade above Casey’s, approached the table with a plastic bag in his hands. He thought of how he had reached out to her the previous Friday, but she had seemed distracted. He had always wanted to talk to her, and thought he would give it a try. Even though she looked liked she preferred to be alone. He shook his head slightly, looking at the frozen smile in the picture. He wished he had called her name a little louder, or actually grabbed her shoulder when she passed.

Josh put the bag on the table, unwrapping it and pulling out a pair of new shoes. He had bought them for her before hearing about the accident. In the cafeteria his friend had dropped his food all over her shoes, staining them. Josh sighed, sitting the shoes next to the flowers and candles.

“Nice to meet you Casey, I’m Josh.”