Roses For The Dead

       Someone taps my shoulder. I roll my eyes, sigh and ignore him again. I have my headphones in and my music up loud so I can concentrate on my work. It's the middle of fifth period and I am writing my English paper. Well, trying to anyway. My shoulder is tapped again and I ignore him once more, write a sentence, and then erase it, just to write it again, this time adding more detail to make the story better. He taps my shoulder again, this time with a little more pressure. 

      Why won't he leave me alone? I think and ignore him, returning my attention back to my paper. Elliot taps my shoulder a fourth, fifth and then a sixth time. 

     Now, you may be wondering who Elliot is. Zeke, Elliot, and I grew up living next door to each other. We never got along because it was always two against one, and Elliot was always being mean to us. Especially me. He was always pulling my hair or pushing me down. He has had this weird obsession with me since the first grade. In seventh grade, Elliot sat behind me in math class. One day, in the middle of math, Elliot decided he wanted to pull my hair again. But this time, he pulled my hair so hard that my head was jerked back quite painfully. I got up out of my chair and turned around to face him. Elliot was laughing at me. I was so mad at him that I balled my hand into a fist and I punched him. I hit Elliot so hard that his head jerked back so hard, his char tipped backward and he fell out of it. Zeke laughed so hard that he fell out of his own chair and rolled around on the floor, giggling like a school girl. 

     Needless to say, Elliot go in trouble for pulling my hair and I got in trouble for punching him. And yet, he never left me alone after that. Two days later, Elliot, all black and blue and purple in the face, stood up in front of everyone in the cafeteria and announced that he was in love with me. My face had gone red and I didn't make eye contact with anyone for the rest of the day. I beat the crap out of him after school in my front yard when he decided it was a good idea to come over to my house. 

     Elliot taps my shoulder again. Then again. By the time he taps my shoulder a tenth time, I am beyond angry. I yank my earbuds out of ears, and whip around to face him. 

     "What do you want, Elliot?!?!" I say with as much venom as I can. "I'm trying to do my work." All around us, people stop what they are doing and stare at us. Even our English teacher, Mrs. Barnsley, looks up from grading last nights homework to see what is going on. Some have amused looks on their faces and some are looking confused. A bunch of students snicker because they know what is going to happen. Or what they are hoping will happen. Which will end the class period with Elliot having a broken nose and me having bruised knuckles. Again. 

    "Ah, come on,  babe. No you're not. You are just pretending to do you work. I know you want me." Elliot whispers so no one else can hear him. Louder, he says, "what time should I pick you up for Prom?"

     "We are not going to Prom together. I told you this. I already have a date, who happens to be my boyfriends, which is not you! Stop asking me that question, stop calling me babe and leave me the hell alone!" I say, trying to keep my voice from growing to a scream. 

      I turn back around, and look to my right. Zeke is in the seat next to me, trying to hide his laughter. I glare at him, flip him off, slam my books shut, and stack my things in a neat and organized pile. I straighten my pencils and my eraser so they are perfect. (OCD sucks sometimes. Even if it is a small case of OCD) Then, I stick my earbuds back in my ears, stand and shove my phone in my back pocket just as the bell rings. I grab my stack of books and walk out of the room as fast as I can. Walking down the hall quickly, I dodge students left and right as I go. I reach my locker at the same time Elliot walks out of the alcove next to it. Again. He always seems to be at my locker before I am. The school is pretty big, so there are other ways to get to the row of lockers that we are currently standing in front of. Which irritates me because I can never seem to get a break from him.He is always in my face, behind me when I walk, and he follows me everywhere with his eyes. He creeps me out and I hate him so much. He pulls his hand out from behind his back and in it, he is holding a dozen blood red roses. They are my favorite flower, but I don't know how Elliot would know that. I never told him, and neither has anyone else, as far as I know. There are a few girls in this school who hate me, so I wouldn't put it it past them if they found out and told him.