Rating: G (So far at least)
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Too bad.
Summary: A REALISTIC view of the CSI's in high school. No relationships, and everyone gets their POV included. Including Greg. I'm basically following one CSI as they come into contact with one another. I don't know if that's very clear at all but.
I made up (most) of the stuff about their past, and I have no idea where this school is, but somewhere where it's cold in the winter. Please review, I need encouragement!
What Makes Them Who They Are Today?
20 minutes until class, and the halls were already teeming with people. Many students were heading for their lockers, with their winter jackets still zipped up against the biting wind outside. Others were lined up against the walls, chatting with one another. Rumors were passed, and undone homework was hurriedly being copied down. But not everyone was contributing to the ruckus of young voices.
Gil Grissom was one such person. Although he was new at this school, he was familiar with the customs and rituals that are preformed at them all. Always moving around the country had accustomed him to being the "new kid". It had also taught him not to become too attached to any one place or person.
Gil was always trying to learn more, inside the classroom and out. He observed everything, and everyone. Many times he tried to make conclusions based on these observations. Unfortunately many times his conclusions were wrong, especially when they were based on observations of person. People were something Gil did not understand.
Walking through the busy hallway, Gil unzipped his coat, and pulled down the furry hood. He'd been here for half of a year now, and still no one had accepted him into their "group". He wasn't sure if that was a bad thing or not. He knew he'd most likely have to leave this school at the end of the year. Again. If anybody had asked him where he was from he wouldn't know what to say. Gil had learned over the years not to think of any place as home. Just as he'd learned not to think of anyone as a friend.
Gil continued down the corridor to his locker. He kept his eyes open for anything out of the ordinary, his ears listening for gossip. Gossip was his most recent interest. He'd been trying to understand the human mind, at first as a whole, but after that didn't work he'd tried to analyze the small parts that make up the mind. Maybe he was going about it wrong. Maybe he needed to first understand the emotions that could drive the brain to make illogical decisions...
His eyes picked out someone... different in the distance. It was that kid, the one he'd seen before. Gil had first spotted him out because he was quiet. There were of course a few shy kids in school, and none of them special enough to warrant further observation. But this kid... Most shy kids usually found a group to hang out in by the end of the first few weeks. This one... This one reminded him of himself. Halfway through the year and he still didn't seem to have any friends.
The kid was drawing closer. He had brown hair, which was partially covered by the hood of his sweatshirt, as well as brown eyes. Deep brown eyes. Gil sweared someone could drown in them. Those eyes looked as if they were brimming with tears, though none could ever be seen streaming down the kids face. The young face was watching his feet, and he had a serious slouching problem.
Depressed. That was the word, depressed. The kid was right in front of Gil, and he suddenly had the urge to reach out to the boy. He was morbidly curious about his reasons for being so depressed. He'd never had a chance to observe someone so deep in anger, and sadness. So he reached without thinking, forgetting temporarily his own shyness.
Gil grabbed the boy's shoulder just as they were passing, and turned himself so they were heading the same direction. The boy looked up in surprise. Gil thought for a moment. Now that he had taken the chance, he didn't know what to say. He settled for, "Hey."
The kid, still stunned into stupidity replied, "Hey." He retuned his gaze to the floor.
Gil was now on a roll. The kid didn't seem mad at him, he was doing fine. "Umm, yeah so, what's up?" The slang words rolled strangely off his tongue.
"Nothing, alright! Why are you talking to me anyways?" The boy tuned so he was facing Gil.
"I..."
"Just leave me alone!"
The eyes burned with anger, even hate. Why does he hate me though, Gil thought. I didn't do anything to him. He'd have to think it over later.
"Wait, just... What's your name?"
The kid glowered at him one more time, then turned. He took two steps, then stopped. He sighed. Not turning, he replied, "Greg." He resumed his slouching walk, soon disappearing into the crowd.
Gil stared after him for a moment or two, then turned back toward his locker.
TBC...
Review please! I might not post the next part if you don't!
Eat when you're hungry,
Sleep when you're tired,
Drink when you're thirsty,
Write when inspired.
~Just a poem I wrote. I think it sums up my opinion about writing perfectly.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Too bad.
Summary: A REALISTIC view of the CSI's in high school. No relationships, and everyone gets their POV included. Including Greg. I'm basically following one CSI as they come into contact with one another. I don't know if that's very clear at all but.
I made up (most) of the stuff about their past, and I have no idea where this school is, but somewhere where it's cold in the winter. Please review, I need encouragement!
What Makes Them Who They Are Today?
20 minutes until class, and the halls were already teeming with people. Many students were heading for their lockers, with their winter jackets still zipped up against the biting wind outside. Others were lined up against the walls, chatting with one another. Rumors were passed, and undone homework was hurriedly being copied down. But not everyone was contributing to the ruckus of young voices.
Gil Grissom was one such person. Although he was new at this school, he was familiar with the customs and rituals that are preformed at them all. Always moving around the country had accustomed him to being the "new kid". It had also taught him not to become too attached to any one place or person.
Gil was always trying to learn more, inside the classroom and out. He observed everything, and everyone. Many times he tried to make conclusions based on these observations. Unfortunately many times his conclusions were wrong, especially when they were based on observations of person. People were something Gil did not understand.
Walking through the busy hallway, Gil unzipped his coat, and pulled down the furry hood. He'd been here for half of a year now, and still no one had accepted him into their "group". He wasn't sure if that was a bad thing or not. He knew he'd most likely have to leave this school at the end of the year. Again. If anybody had asked him where he was from he wouldn't know what to say. Gil had learned over the years not to think of any place as home. Just as he'd learned not to think of anyone as a friend.
Gil continued down the corridor to his locker. He kept his eyes open for anything out of the ordinary, his ears listening for gossip. Gossip was his most recent interest. He'd been trying to understand the human mind, at first as a whole, but after that didn't work he'd tried to analyze the small parts that make up the mind. Maybe he was going about it wrong. Maybe he needed to first understand the emotions that could drive the brain to make illogical decisions...
His eyes picked out someone... different in the distance. It was that kid, the one he'd seen before. Gil had first spotted him out because he was quiet. There were of course a few shy kids in school, and none of them special enough to warrant further observation. But this kid... Most shy kids usually found a group to hang out in by the end of the first few weeks. This one... This one reminded him of himself. Halfway through the year and he still didn't seem to have any friends.
The kid was drawing closer. He had brown hair, which was partially covered by the hood of his sweatshirt, as well as brown eyes. Deep brown eyes. Gil sweared someone could drown in them. Those eyes looked as if they were brimming with tears, though none could ever be seen streaming down the kids face. The young face was watching his feet, and he had a serious slouching problem.
Depressed. That was the word, depressed. The kid was right in front of Gil, and he suddenly had the urge to reach out to the boy. He was morbidly curious about his reasons for being so depressed. He'd never had a chance to observe someone so deep in anger, and sadness. So he reached without thinking, forgetting temporarily his own shyness.
Gil grabbed the boy's shoulder just as they were passing, and turned himself so they were heading the same direction. The boy looked up in surprise. Gil thought for a moment. Now that he had taken the chance, he didn't know what to say. He settled for, "Hey."
The kid, still stunned into stupidity replied, "Hey." He retuned his gaze to the floor.
Gil was now on a roll. The kid didn't seem mad at him, he was doing fine. "Umm, yeah so, what's up?" The slang words rolled strangely off his tongue.
"Nothing, alright! Why are you talking to me anyways?" The boy tuned so he was facing Gil.
"I..."
"Just leave me alone!"
The eyes burned with anger, even hate. Why does he hate me though, Gil thought. I didn't do anything to him. He'd have to think it over later.
"Wait, just... What's your name?"
The kid glowered at him one more time, then turned. He took two steps, then stopped. He sighed. Not turning, he replied, "Greg." He resumed his slouching walk, soon disappearing into the crowd.
Gil stared after him for a moment or two, then turned back toward his locker.
TBC...
Review please! I might not post the next part if you don't!
Eat when you're hungry,
Sleep when you're tired,
Drink when you're thirsty,
Write when inspired.
~Just a poem I wrote. I think it sums up my opinion about writing perfectly.