Piercing Illusions
Singularity
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	So, uh, yeah, I had this dream that I was hunting, and… eh, fuck this.  Who writes their dreams down anyway?
Well, whatever, there’s not much to it, and I can’t get the fucking thing out of my head anyway. So yeah, I was hunting, and uh, I was running. Really really fast, like, faster than anyone in the world.  And, I didn’t have a weapon either, no gun or anything. I was just gonna tear them apart with my bare hands, I guess. And I’d found a deer or something, and I was about to bite down into it, but then I get shot. Shot in the shoulder, with an arrow. Guess that crazy bitch thought it was her deer.  And that’s it, I guess… damn, though, that hurt!

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	Rusty looked up from his desk, glancing at his alarm clock. It was 7 AM. 	Well, damn, the bus’ll be here soon, he thought. He casually tossed the ring-bound notebook he had been writing in onto his bed. He spent a few minutes running around his room, grabbing what he thought he needed for classes that day. Books, pencils, paper. A little something for him to look at in study hall, when he should be doing work. Of course. Oh, and he had sports practice this afternoon, too.  He threw it all in his backpack and wandered out to the kitchen to grab something to eat.  His parents, of course, had long since left for work, so the house was deserted. Rusty dropped his backpack at the door, and wolfed down some cereal.  He heard the bus pull up to the curb through the window behind him, and he grabbed all his stuff. At the last minute, he ran back in to the room and grabbed his notebook. Maybe I can chuck this thing out at school and get rid of it.
	He stepped onto the bus and was greeted with “’eey, Rusty!”
	“Hey, Mike, my man!” he said back, giving a high-five as he sat down next to him.
	“How’s it going, dude? How was your summer?” Mike asked.
	“Oh, ya know, same as always.”
	“Your mom still bitchin’ you out?”
	“Of course. Can’t handle me wanting to do things besides study, apparently.”
	“Well shit dude, just tell her you’ve got better things to do than listen to her bitching.”
	“I can’t do that, man. She said she’ll take my keys away if I don’t start getting better grades.”
	“Damn, dude! You gotta start paying more attention.”
	“Come on, Mike, I’m doing better than you are!”
	“Yeah, well, my parents don’t give a damn, so there.” Mike said, turning to look out the window.
	“Well, hey, there’s always basketball, right?” said Rusty.
	“Oh, you know it. If anyone can get on the NBA, you can. Don’t listen to your fricken mother. You don’t need high grades for anything.”
	“Yeah…” Rusty thought otherwise, but he wasn’t going to argue the point.
	Mike kept staring out the window, seemingly lost in thought. Rusty didn’t feel much like talking right now, anyway, so they just sat in silence until the bus arrived at the school.  He left with a “Later dude”, and wandered off towards the cafeteria. I’m a senior now, do I really need to hear the damn welcome speech again? It’s the same every year. Maybe I’ll chill here until it’s all over, they won’t notice one missing person in a school this size.
	Rusty clearly wasn’t the only person who had this idea.  As he walked in he noticed a bunch of people already sitting here.  Some of them were actually getting a school breakfast, but most of them looked just as bored as he was.  He knew a lot of these kids.  Most of them fell into their cliques and played their roles well.  And Verona High was almost infamous for its cliques. You had the druggies, sitting off in their own little corner musing about what color their lawns were today.  It was a miracle they hadn’t all dropped out of school yet.  You had the Drama Club, with their exasperated, overly-dramatic sighs about just how droll and lifeless this year’s speech was going to be.  He wondered how anyone could bear to be around these people for very long.