Ways to Make Things Happen

Preface:

I sit at my desk, fingers typing fast.
Why I'm typing, I don't know, I really have no idea what to talk about on my blog for the day. School has no drama these days.
Everybody seems to be entranced with their laptops in front of them. I hear some girls giggle on the other side of the room. I glanced up, a couple seconds pass, and I see they are looking at me.
I'm still typing and they're still looking.
An urge fills me to go and talk to them and figure out what they were talking about, but I don't think I would be accepted. Something tells me they're not as nice as they look. They look pretty cute, though. Girls confuse me.
They giggle again.
The teacher stands up. The ring on her left hand glistens for a moment.
I try to picture her on her wedding day, in a flowing gown, but nothing comes. My mind can't even process her in anything else than a tightly collared shirt with slacks pulled up too high. It's impossible to believe she even had a social life.
I still wish to know what the girls were talking about. For all I know, they could be complimenting my hair, my eyes, my outfit. But then again, giggling and looking isn't the best combination.
As our teacher stood up she started to talk, but that was a while ago. I don't think any of us are listening, so she reaches for her whistle on her lanyard. It's one of those emergency whistles people take when they go camping. It hurts my ears, but I still don't look up.
Everything falls silent except for me, iPod in my ears, typing away at my laptop. The middle of the day feels more like four in the morning to me, and I'm tired and arrogant.
I notice how awkward the room feels and quickly pull out my earphones. I look expectantly at the teacher.
She starts to talk, something about staying off of bad websites, a topic I've heard way too many times from my father to even bother to pay attention. I'm on a school's database, with it's own high-quality firewalls and all of that. I'm not scared, not of stuff like that. I'm scared of death. I know, I'm a deep man. The thought of failing one last time... not being able to fix it... To be deeper, not dying itself, but the thought of not finishing things I had started. I guess I'm OCD.
My thoughts are flourishing with ideas when she finishes talking. I think I have an inspiration now, after thinking about the girls, and my fears. I'm typing again. My blog starts to look more bright, more complex. I start out with a title--after doing a little research--that looks pretty normal to me, but it will have to do. Then the teacher stands up again, though this time she didn't have to blow her whistle. She dismisses us, and we all hurry to get out of class. I lag behind though, to wait for one of the girls that was giggling at me earlier.
"Hey Angel," I say. Her actual name was Angelina, but everyone called her Angel because she was so pretty. Blond hair, no blemishes of any kind on her face.
She seemed shocked I was actually talking to her. Out of all the guys in school, I was shy and quiet. "Oh, hey." Her purse swung and hit someone behind us. I suppressed a snort, barely. We walked in silence until we came up to my locker. She stopped, expecting me to leave her and collect my belongings.
"Don't leave--" I start, grabbing her arm when she attempts to walk off. "I... wanted to ask you... something." Wow, I'm a loser when it comes to girls.

First of all, I love it. You are very descriptive, but not overly, and I can easily see in my mind's eye what you are writing about. The one thing I felt could use work was the ending. From the title I'm assuming that you are continuing the story beyond this (disregard this if you're not), and the ending wrapped things up a little too well. If your readers like the story, then even just a little cliffhanger is all you need to hook them onto the next chapter.

I agree with thajaro. You need a cliffhanger. For me right now, it sounds like a lament. Nothing's really poking out, but that's what the pece is supposed to be like, right? Nothing really important in this to me, like... a prologue should kind of give the reader a taste of what to come, and I don't mean to be rude about this... but all I get from this is that it will be a long, one-paragraph-is-one-sentenc book that sounds very depressing.

I think it's all of the line breaks that you put in there; it makes everything seem detatched from one another, like... normally a paragraph would be describing the same thing. There are a few paragraphs describing the same thing here... the teacher, for one.

It just sriked me that I have no idea if it's a girl or a boy blogging this; excusable for a prologue, bu I think it should be explained in the first chapter.

I sit in my desk, fingers typing fast.

In should be at.

Everybody's entranced with their laptops in front of them. I hear some girls giggle on the other side of the room. I glanced up, a couple seconds pass, and I see they are looking at me.

Doesn't that mean that everyone but the girls is entranced?

Ohh! Just thought of something you could put in! They shoudl have the curtains drawn and everything dark for anti-glare. That would make it like... some creapy night time room where everyone's glowing from their laptops. Just a thought.

I'm still typing while they look.

Typing while they look at you? Shouldn't it be whie you look at them looking at you?

An urge fills me to go and talk to them, but I don't think I would be accepted. Something tells me they're not as nice as they look. I think it's my conscience.

Conscience tells you what is right or wrong, morally, I think. This part has nothing to do with morals, so you might want to change it to something different.

The teacher stands up. The ring on her left hand glistens for a moment.

I try to/and picture her on her wedding day, in a flowing gown, but nothing comes. A personal relationship with a teacher is unheard of. Un-heard.

Why's he trying to picture her on hher wedding day? I've never even looked to see if my teachers wear a ring.

Still, I wish to know what the girls are thinking. For all I know, they could be complimenting my hair, my eyes, my outfit. But then again, giggling and looking isn't the best combination.

Still? He hasn't said anything to contradict the first sign he wanted to know. For example, if you say:

I want to know what's for breakfast. Mum usually makes me something deliscious. Still, I want to know what's for breakfast.

It doesn't make sense, because people usually use 'still' as something which says that, even though they have shown the reader a bad side to their want, they still want it.

So change that, in my opinion.

As our teacher, our instructor, stood up, she started to talk, but that was a while ago. I don't think any of us are listening, and she reaches for her whistle on her lanyard. It's one of those emergency whistles people take when they go camping. It hurts our ears. but I still don't look up.

Kind of thought I might add a point to that paragraph.

Everyone falls silent, except for me, with my ipod in my ears, typing away on my computer. The middle of the day feels more like four in the morning to me.

Falls silent how? Stops talking, or stops typing? Too many commaS! Commas can be used in place of brackets, so I take it you mean for that to happen with the 'with my iPod in my ears' part. I think it should be: Everyone falls silent but for me, iPod in my ears, typing away at my laptop.

I notice the awkwardness of the situation and quickly pull out my earphones. I look expectantly at the teacher.

Awkwardness isn't a word you should be using there. I notice how awkward the situation was, and quickly pull out my earphones.

I'm not scared of those things. I'm scared of death. The thought of failing one last time, and not being able to fix it... now that scares me. Not dying itself, but the thought of not finishing things I had started. This is scary to me.

My thoughts are flourishing with ideas when she finishes talking. I'm on the internet now, writing away, blogging about fears and girls and... romance... I think I have an inspiration now, sitting in class. Maybe I do.

Okay, so:
Those things; You have only mentioned one thing.
Death; wow! Bringing out the big guns. That seems a little bit heavy for the classroom! Also, fun fact: There are actually more people scared of spiders than there are people scared of death. It's because you don't think of death very often... like, when you're in class, perhaps.
,; Don't need the comma.
and; and makes it run better instead of the comma.
...; added the elipsis, but I still don't think it runs very well, that last part.
but; Added but because it runs better.
this is scary to me; Don't need it. Take it out.
ideas; ideas of what? She was talking about internet safety. Do you want to go and make a virus or something?
ramance; you never mentioned romance before apart from the girls. But that doesn't make me think of romance, that makes me think of annoying kids in the class who are too stupid to even pretend that they're doing work.


Okay, so basically, main point here is that it's a very monotonous peice, when a prologue should grab the reader in and tell them something about the book, without being boring. If you've chosen this scene for the prologue, then I don;t think it will be an exciting prologue, sorry. As of now, I wouldn't read on.

Yup. I like this version better. The personality of this comes through more, and I can almost hear his voice when he says stuff like, yeah, I'm a deep man, I know. I think it'a a lot better! You've put more detail in, too.

Great work, like the ending, too. But one thing confuses me: You're blogging, right? So this appears on the MC's blog? How does he continue to narrate after the computer's shut down? Or maybe he's not blogging, and just narrating as he blogs... I'd look through as watch for the swapping of tenses, too. You switch from present to past a couple of times.

Well improved, anyway,.

Just when it got good, it ends! Well I hope you come back to add more to it. I am dying to find out what the girls were laughing at. Well, being a female myself, it was probably something catty, like somebody not wearing clothes that matched. Hope to read more soon.