This was Kriss Carnegie's daily routine. The same would happen each time, not even a slight change, except for the clothes he would decided to wear each day. Those were what always changed for him, picking and choosing with care. It rarely took him more then a few minutes to come up with a new outfit that was completely original or at least looked different from what most people worn. He would always pride himself on his sense of fashion.
Today, it was a pair of faded blue jeans. His favourite pair at that, they were the perfect size, not too tight but still weren't at all baggy. He wore a white button-up T-shirt with that. It hugged to his upper body every time he wore it. He also had a black tie picked out, which he would always wear loosely around his neck. His favourite part of the entire outfit would indeed be his pair of high-top, red converse shoes. He adored those shoes, which now had a few holes in them from so much use but he would never throw them out. He just used neon band-aids to cover them up. He had the money if he wanted get new shoes, though. His family was very rich, most people wouldn't have guessed that from the way he would dress, though. This was about as good as it was going to get for the day.
Before he went to get dressed he dropped everything onto the bed, leaving his shoes by his door he walked over to the opposite door in his room and headed into the bathroom. The male showered quickly, washing his hair and body. When he finished he hopped out of the shower and walked back into his room. He dried himself off with ease then got into his outfit for the day.
Kriss grabbed his camera off his bedside table and looped it over his neck. Turning off his light, a dim orange came in through his window now. The sun was finally rising as he trudged through the maze of hallways and headed down a staircase. He walked into the kitchen and heaved a sigh before grabbing an apple. He munched away on it until it was down to the core, which he tossed into the trash bin. Happy with everything, he headed to the door. He grabbed a large backpack ,with tags and pins all over it, and flung one of the straps over his left shoulder.
He opened the door and headed out into the day. He never saw his parents in the morning, for his father would have already left for work. His mother was off in some small third world country, still. She did a lot of work away from home, she was a doctor. Rarely ever even coming back into the country. She was usually gone for months at a time and when she returned she would just rest a lot. His father worked for the government and had long hours as well. Kriss barely ever saw either of his parents.
As he walked down to the bus stop he waited for at least twenty minutes for the bus. He would always make it there first, the same time everyday. As the bus rolled to a stop him and about four other people got on. He walked to the very back seat, which was empty as the students all knew that Kriss liked to sit there. Kriss was well known on his bus, for the main reason that he was friends with most of the students who rode on it. The were almost all freshmen as well. He hated how people always seemed to pick on the younger students and he had made sure to try to befriend as many as possible.
When the bus finally pulled up to the school, a bright smile hit his face. A new day, a new opportunity for taking pictures. He loved the thought and hopped from the bus eagerly. He put his camera and bag into his locker and took his books to his first class. The green-eyed male walked in and found that almost all of the seats were already taken, that was what he got for riding the bus with the slow driver. He sighed and took a seat in the back row. He saw a guy he had never noticed before but just smiled at him and gave a quick 'hello' before turning back to his book. It had pictures all over the cover and along the inside as well. He pulled out a pen and started doodling more little cartoon people here and there. Today was the boy. He would glance back at him every now and again and drawing what he saw. He would do that everyday, each time with a different classmate.
————————————————————————————————————————————————
There really wasn't much to life on earth. It was always dull, never anything interesting going on. Well, there was almost always a war going on in one place or another but other than that, it wasn't much of an existence. It was more like living because you had too. Being born, going through school, getting a job, making money–which goes to the government anyway–then retiring when you're too old to do anything. When that's all done with, you just die. What was the point in living through all of it. Not one glimmer of satisfaction. There was always something to strive for but once it was reached, a new goal would just pop up. It wasn't like the people actually wanted to go through with it all anyway. Maybe, if it was something interesting. Nobody ever said life would be easy though, but it's not like they tell you what you're going to have to stick out either. If there was a goal worth achieving maybe people would want to try harder to get there and get it done.
That was what Daniel thought, at least. The nineteen-year-old wasn’t one of the most cheery of people. Well, to put it straight, he was depressing. The young male always looked to the dark side of everything, which there was always a lot of. When he would do this, it would always bring others down. Daniel's perspective was, they should tell you about all this, before you get stuck with a life. Give you a chance to say no. Live it up in heaven, screw the world and trying to make a living. What's the point in that, anyway? It would always be easier to just gut it out in heaven–or whatever there was–instead of trying to go through a whole life of trial and error. You make mistakes then everyone expects you to go back and try it again until you get it right. Well, why try at all? Just throw in the towel and hang out in heaven instead. It's not like they have to work, or pay the bills, or feed the kids, or buy the groceries, or walk the dog, or go to school. With just that small amount of things people get stuck with, wouldn't it seem like the smart choice would be to say 'No, I don't want to go and you can't make me.' Daniel knew, if he had the chance to go back and say that, he would have. It would beat working at the little coffee shop and living in his small apartment with all his fish and his cat. He thought his life was bad, but it could always get worse. That was his philosophy anyway. Looking to the dark side, yet again. Just as he was always known for.
Daniel had been pondering these things again, while on the job, which never turned out to be a good thing with his boss. "Dan! What are you doing? Get back to work," a booming voice interrupted his thoughts as he turned to see his boss, Trevor, waving a damp cloth in front of his face. Back to reality now. He groaned, snatching the cloth from the male. "You know, I could just step on you. Maybe then you would shut up," he threatened, with a devious grin. Daniel had always teased his boss about his height. He could get away with it too, as he was six feet four inches while Trevor was only a mere five foot four inches. Exactly a foot shorter than Daniel, which was always rubbed in his face. "Just get back to work, will you?" he asked, weaker this time as he went back behind the counter to take another order. Daniel just smirked as he turned away from the other, now focusing back on the pathetic shop.
The smirk soon faded from his face as he saw that, like usual, the place was almost completely empty. The same old woman sat in a window seat, she would show up everyday at the same time, just for a regular coffee. Yet, she would sit there for three hours, only drinking one cup and reading her book. She was a waste of space, but it wasn't like there were others waiting to take it from her. There were rarely more then two or three people there during his shift. The shop might have been small–with only four booths and four normal tables, which only seated two–but that was still no excuse to never have costumers when he worked. Maybe it was Daniel who had chased them all away. Things did seem to quite down after he started working there a year ago. His mood always did seem to rub off on others, that could have been why they stopped coming in so often. He did seem to have that affect on people. Oh well, it wasn't like he cared if there were people to serve.
He groaned as he went about his daily duties, wiping down each and every table, then the chairs and benches. It was closing time, you see. Daniel had been put on the late shift, when most people had left and gone home. It seemed people would avoid when they knew he was working. That could have been why he could never make any tips. Or maybe it was the fact that he usually scared the costumers away or reduced them to tears, which he had done on numerous occasions. He found it funny. Trevor, on the other hand, didn't think it was funny at all.
By now it was almost closing time. "Trev, I'm heading home early. You think you can handle everything?" Daniel didn't even wait for an answer. "Good, I'll see you tomorrow then. Night." He undid the strings of his deep green apron from around his waist then pulled it over his head. It ruffled his chestnut hair, which he soon ran a hand through, putting it back into place, which happened to be slightly in his eyesight. He hung the apron on a small hook near the back door and strode over to the exit. Walking out the door, he immediately felt a cool breeze against his bare arms. That's what he got for leaving his jacket at home. That would teach him not to wear a T-shirt next time.
————————————————————————————————————————————————
Landon was brought back to reality with a start. His Art teacher towering above him a scowl on his face. “Mr. Cassidy would you like to repeat the assignment for the rest of the class?” He had been daydreaming again and caught. As usual. Landon brought his eyes up to meet the male’s “But, Mr. Sullivan, you’re so much better at explaining it all. I think you should,” he said casually, a smirk making its way onto his lips. “Just see me after class, will you?” The young male groaned and nodded his head. It was the last period of the day and Landon didn’t want to be held back long. He had things to do after all.
This was the third time that week he had been staring out the window at nothing in particular. He just couldn’t seem to focus anymore. It was all getting so dull to him. He used to love his art class but now it all seemed so boring to him. He wasn’t challenged and there were never any interesting projects to do. He hoped that the one he had just missed the explanation for was a bit better. Maybe it would take him more then a few hours to get done. He was far ahead of the class and Mr. Sullivan had noticed.
By the time the class was over Landon sat watching everyone else exit the room. His teacher striding over to him. “Okay, we have to do something about this. You’re good. There’s no doubting it but if you don’t start trying harder you’ll make will go down. Just because you’re work is good doesn’t mean everything. You have to put effort into it all. So, I won’t be having you do the same project as the rest of the class. I want you to get out there and try. This time, I’m leaving it up to you. You’ve got three weeks to get me something. A collage, painting, poster, make a clay poodle for all I care. Just go out and find something that makes you want to try. I know you have the talent and I want you to use it.”
At his teacher’s suggestion he couldn’t help but smile. It was up to him? He could do whatever, anything? Paint a flower, sculpt of frog, anything. This was up to him and he planned to use that advantage but before he could start something he would have to find something he liked! Maybe this was going to be harder than he thought. Sure, he was good. There was no lying about that but to actually finding what made him want to do something and finish it, his inspiration, that was going to be difficult. He couldn’t remember the last time he had done something and actually felt proud of it or even really liked it for that matter. Now was his chance.
“Okay, Mr Sullivan. You’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll get right to it as soon as you let me go, that is.” He looked up at his teacher, the man nodding his head toward the door. “Get going,” he muttered. Landon bounced up from his desk and started to the door. “Three weeks!” his teacher called after him. Landon only smiled and started to his locker. He quickly did the combination and opened it. Putting his pencil and book away before grabbing his messenger bag and pulling it over his head. This was going to be good. Maybe he would snap a few pictures and do something with photoshop? He had Communication Technology third period -right before art- so putting the two classes together and making something would be nice. Or maybe, he would do just a plain charcoal drawing. Either way, he had to get thinking- he didn’t have all that much time.
————————————————————————————————————————————————
A pair of sparkling green eyes were set on a small puppy in one of the displays of the pet store where she had worked for the past four years. With a smile she opened the hatch to the back of the glass cage, plucking up the small, furry, Golden Retriever pup. She held it gently against fur-covered uniform shirt as she walked back around to where the customers were. A young child and their mother stood, watching the puppy being brought over.
After a brief time the child's mother paid for the small animal and some accessories for the dog. With a sigh and small smile Magdalene--known to everyone as Maggie--watched the animal being led out of the store. The thought of never getting to see the small puppy again made the fair-skinned girl sad for a moment. 'At least he'll be going to a good home,' she thought, sighing again. Maggie knew the two who had left with the dog. After all, she lived in quite a small town. Over five years she had lived there she had gotten to know many of the people. After all, she was the one who usually looked after their pets when they went on vacations. Almost anyone in that town who had a pet or even wanted a pet probably knew Maggie since she worked at the only pet store in town and she helped to run one of the few animal kennels in the county.
"Maggie," a loud voice came from the back of the store. "Shouldn't you be getting home? Your shift was over an hour ago. You must be exhausted." The woman talking to young Maggie was the owner of the store, Sharon. She was one of Maggie's closest friends.
"I know. I'm going, I'm going," she yawned. Maggie had been there since seven that morning and had to pull a double shift because one of the other employees called in sick. It would start getting dark soon. Wasting no time the raven-haired twenty-three-year-old grabbed her jacket and her bag, heading straight out the front door and starting her trek to her apartment on the other side of town. It wasn't that she didn't have a car, she just hated using it when she had a pair of perfectly good, pollution-free feet. She only drove when she had to go out of town--like to the kennel she worked at from Tuesday to Saturday. Her Mondays were spent working at the pet store. Sunday was the only day she ever got off which was when she would stay home with her babies and call her mother to check up on her.
Eventually Maggie made it home, her two cats--also known as her babies--were lounging on her sofa leisurely. "How was your day?" she asked the lazy beasts with a worn-out smile. Her Ocicat raised her head, staring at Maggie for a moment. "That interesting, huh?" Maggie shook her head and patted the cat before heading off to take a shower--the best way to get animal fur off.
Only ten minutes later the five-foot, three-inch girl had finished her hot shower and was dressed in a pair of light blue, silky pajama bottoms, a tight-fitting, white undershirt and bare feet. This was her usual apparel around the small apartment. "You two hungry?" she asked from the kitchen as she got out some food for her two best friends. They always got a small bit of tuna when Maggie got home from work. It was there treat for not tearing her house apart. In no time the two cats were in the kitchen gobbling away at their snack and Maggie was busy making her own dinner, a tuna sandwich--made with the rest of the tuna.
