This is my good friend, Dead Desk Guy. We've been friends ever since last fall. I sat down in my assigned desk in my screen writing class a few months ago and looked down. This dead guy was smiling up at me. At first, I must admit, this dude creeped me out. Who would draw a smiling dead guy on a desk? Are we high schoolers?
    Anyways, after a while, I grew accustomed to the X-eyed smiling face. It was odd, and my classmates and I commented on the humor of it. "He must have not wanted to take the final really badly!" etc. I even grew protective of him. At one point, the desks were rearranged, and Dead Desk Guy was placed with a less appreciative partner. Giving him facial hair and eyebrows. I quickly took Dead Desk Guy back under my custody, to protect him from vandals.
    When the semester ended, I said goodbye to Dead Desk Guy, not expecting to ever see him again. This semester, I have a Shakespeare class in the same room. "Wouldn't it be funny if Dead Desk Guy were still in here?" I asked myself with a smile. I sat down where I had the semester previous, and Dead Desk Guy was nowhere to be seen. Miffed, I decided to actually pay attention to what my professor was saying.
    "I am a man of order, therefore, I have created a seating chart that will be valid for the remainder of the semester." said he, as he pulled out a paper and started rearranging the students to his fickle desire. "No, you two switch places." "Here, you two stay in the same place, but trade desks. There you go. Much better." "Kristina Huff? You're in the back." I grimaced. I had sent my professor an e-mail just two days prior stating that I perform better in the classroom setting if I remain in the front row. Oh well. I picked up my effects and sat down in my new desk.
    "Dead Desk Guy!" I shouted without thinking. Several of my classmates gave me odd looks at my sudden outburst. I pointed sheepishly to the blue marker scrawled on my desk. "Heh... It looks like a dead guy. Funny, huh?" I stated dubiously. I plopped down in my desk, vowing to remain silent for the remainder of the hour. I didn't mind. I had my inanimate friend back. Life was good.
    As the days went on, I began to notice new additions to Dead Desk Guy's surroundings. "T.G.I.F." "Whazzup?" and so on. The usual desk graffiti garbage. I realized I couldn't protect Dead Desk Guy from other students that sat in this desk in other classes. Aw, man! Come on, guys! What's the point of writing on your desks! Seriously!
    Then one day I sat down for class and noticed an entire paragraph written above Dead Desk Guy's head. "'If only, if only.' The woodpecker sighs. 'The bark on the tree was as soft as the skies.' The wolf waits below, hungry and lonely, and cries to the moon. 'If only, if only." I was stunned. I knew that poetry was in a popular book, Holes, but who would someone write it on this desk? It was a pretty poem, so I didn't mind it written there. I read it again and again. It was short and sweet. A nice addition to the surface of my workspace.
    The next day, I sat down to read it again, only to notice that someone else had commented on the poem. "Weirdo!" In bright red pen, with an arrow pointing to the poem. Wow. Thanks for ruining it, man. Ah, well. It's just a desk anyhow.