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If you been in a hot desert, where you can make glass that could fill the void inside of the deepest pits of the ocean, you spend more of a lifetime of even trying. If you been to a chilling tundra, where you can mine perafrost that make the world's biggest ice-cream cone, no one could ever finish. But if you wrote a book about your life, even tried to, could you finish it? Would someone read it? This is what i thought when I met, Brantley Winston, or i like to call him: The Hermit. I remember the first time I saw him. He dressed in either gray, white, and brown shirts. Never with any grapfic on any. Always in blue jeans, shredded at the bottom. He wore gray loafer shoes that look well-broke in, his brown hair was one inch short most of the time. But what i mostly known him that whenever he's surrounded in a crowd that he never smiles, even to the most funniest jokes ever said. Every year book photo, it was a blank face like he had no emotions. But I remember the first time we talked. It was September, 19th. It was a sunny day, where you can still go outside and have lunch. Students we usually talking to each other, about the pep rally that was planned this week. During lunch, most of the students we in the commons where exactly 80 lockers where stacked against the walls and the cafeteria was by the glass windows of the back of the school, where the school's woods. Every day, Brantley had one water bottle and a piece of fruit. On Mondays, it was an apple. On Tuesday and Wedesday, it was an orange. On thrusday and Friday, it was a banana. Today was Wedesday as i seen him by a empty table by himself. Brantley was finishing his science homework, as given of his last class period that we had together. I didn't know the first question: what is kinetic energy? So I walked over to him as he didn't even lift his head to glance of my incoming presence to him.
"Hey." as i greeted to him.
Brantley didn't look up as he still wrote down the answers.
"Excuse me?" trying to get his attention.
He still ingored me as if i wasn't here.
"Brantley?" as i called out his name.
"What?" he said in a dry, moderatly deep voice.
"Are you doing your science homework?" I asked him.
He didn't respond to my question.
"Brantley?" I called out his name again.
"What?" he responded, but in a irritated way.
"Are you doing your science homework?" ask asked my question again.
"What do you think?" Brantley in a smart-alicked way.
"Well, i need help finding out the first question and since you're good at science." As i told him.
"No." He plainly said.
"Why?" I asked.
Brantley put away the sheet, into a neat black binder. "Because you need to figure it out on your own." He said, rudely.
"Please?" I asked him one more time.
"Leave." he demanded looking me right into my eyes with his. When i look, all io could see that he had no intrest of dealing with me or anyone.
I left and looked back as he sat there staring into the middle of the table for the rest of the lunch period.