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by It'sJessBitch 8/29/2012, 4:21 pmIn a dawdling manor, I cautiously walked past all of the individuals, stalling nearby their faded, blue lockers, laughing, socializing, like normal people. And there I stood, alone. I could capture everyone’s’ eyes, as they followed me down the narrow hallway. Holding my books in both hands, I sustained wandering down the hall, looking as if I were lost. That was until I met face to face with James. James was a popular guy, always penetrating for more acquitted students to pick on. And I could tell by the expression on his face, that I was one of them. He grasped the books out of my fragile hands and tossed them all onto the tile flooring. At least I wasn’t lost anymore. I knew exactly where I was headed: straight to the bathroom. James sauntered in another direction, as if he were the coolest guy around. But I like to think of him as the biggest jerk around. Now everyone was looking at me. They whispered secrets to their friends, pointed fingers at me. I heard those heart-breaking words, faint, but clear enough to comprehend.
“She’s such a freak,” a voice muttered behind me.
I bent down, gathered my books, which were scattered across the middle of the hallway, and paced to the bathroom. This is where I usually went when I needed to be alone. I gazed into the mirror across of me and locked eyes with my own reflection. All of the thoughts inside my head were giving me a depraved headache. Thoughts like, who’s that girl inside? Is she really me? Can I pull her through? I expected silence, because I knew that not even I could answer those unreciprocated questions. All I could see was those broken-glass eyes, and the cracked mirror that divided the girl that’s inside. Tears dripped down my cheeks, and left my face looking so pale, almost ghostly. The presence of every day has given me more intentions to disremember who I am, and who I used to be. Now the only word that lingers inside my head is freak. I am a freak.
Folding my hands, my eyes rose to the top of the ceiling. Silently, I mumbled to myself, ‘stay strong.’ The bell rang, the sound nearly knocking me off my feet. I rushed fast through the hall, realizing that it was entirely empty. Each class seemed to pass by so fast, almost as if someone was using a remote to fast-forward every step I took. It almost appeared unreal. As usual, reality trailed me back, but this time, hard. The final bell encircled the halls, as I again strolled through the crowded building.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” spoke a recognizable voice from behind me.
I anxiously turned my body in the opposite direction, spotting James in the corner of my eye.
“That’s none of your business,” I remarked.
“You know Jess, maybe you would have some friends if you weren’t such a freak.”
James gave me a hard shove to the floor, and then left me lying in the center of the hallway. Their laughs filled my ears until I couldn’t hear anymore. I could instantly feel that urge inside me, desperately wanting to burst out crying…but I didn’t. This time, there was no rushing through the halls. I was running. My fear chased me throughout my trip on the way home. Eager to reach my destination, I sprinted to my small house on the corner of the street, and barged through the front door. The silence gave me the impression that I was home alone.
Locking myself in my room, nothing but awful visions reenacted inside my head. What’s funny is that the words James spoke, hurt more than the being shoved to the ground. Everything he said paralyzed my brain, and repeated over and over, so vividly, so painfully. I took on last glance at the vertical mirror centered on the evenly painted, blue wall. Maybe James was right, I assumed. Maybe that is why I have no friends, because I’m a freak. Why am I even alive if no one cares about me? Who am I living for? My mom is hardly ever home, and when she is home, she doesn’t pay any attention to me. I have no friends in school. I can’t think of one person who was ever there for me. I’m yearning for help, but there is nowhere to go. Sometimes I wish I could encounter that one person who understands how I feel. I just lack that one person who can hold me when I need to cry, and feed my anorexic heart. Every day I wake up, praying each day will pass by quickly. Every night I cry myself to sleep, hoping that I dream of being in peaceful place.
There was no hope left. I didn’t want to live anymore. I’m tired of trying, tired of crying. I’m tired of faking my smiles, and faking my happiness. I may be smiling, but inside I’m dying.
Goodbye.
“She’s such a freak,” a voice muttered behind me.
I bent down, gathered my books, which were scattered across the middle of the hallway, and paced to the bathroom. This is where I usually went when I needed to be alone. I gazed into the mirror across of me and locked eyes with my own reflection. All of the thoughts inside my head were giving me a depraved headache. Thoughts like, who’s that girl inside? Is she really me? Can I pull her through? I expected silence, because I knew that not even I could answer those unreciprocated questions. All I could see was those broken-glass eyes, and the cracked mirror that divided the girl that’s inside. Tears dripped down my cheeks, and left my face looking so pale, almost ghostly. The presence of every day has given me more intentions to disremember who I am, and who I used to be. Now the only word that lingers inside my head is freak. I am a freak.
Folding my hands, my eyes rose to the top of the ceiling. Silently, I mumbled to myself, ‘stay strong.’ The bell rang, the sound nearly knocking me off my feet. I rushed fast through the hall, realizing that it was entirely empty. Each class seemed to pass by so fast, almost as if someone was using a remote to fast-forward every step I took. It almost appeared unreal. As usual, reality trailed me back, but this time, hard. The final bell encircled the halls, as I again strolled through the crowded building.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” spoke a recognizable voice from behind me.
I anxiously turned my body in the opposite direction, spotting James in the corner of my eye.
“That’s none of your business,” I remarked.
“You know Jess, maybe you would have some friends if you weren’t such a freak.”
James gave me a hard shove to the floor, and then left me lying in the center of the hallway. Their laughs filled my ears until I couldn’t hear anymore. I could instantly feel that urge inside me, desperately wanting to burst out crying…but I didn’t. This time, there was no rushing through the halls. I was running. My fear chased me throughout my trip on the way home. Eager to reach my destination, I sprinted to my small house on the corner of the street, and barged through the front door. The silence gave me the impression that I was home alone.
Locking myself in my room, nothing but awful visions reenacted inside my head. What’s funny is that the words James spoke, hurt more than the being shoved to the ground. Everything he said paralyzed my brain, and repeated over and over, so vividly, so painfully. I took on last glance at the vertical mirror centered on the evenly painted, blue wall. Maybe James was right, I assumed. Maybe that is why I have no friends, because I’m a freak. Why am I even alive if no one cares about me? Who am I living for? My mom is hardly ever home, and when she is home, she doesn’t pay any attention to me. I have no friends in school. I can’t think of one person who was ever there for me. I’m yearning for help, but there is nowhere to go. Sometimes I wish I could encounter that one person who understands how I feel. I just lack that one person who can hold me when I need to cry, and feed my anorexic heart. Every day I wake up, praying each day will pass by quickly. Every night I cry myself to sleep, hoping that I dream of being in peaceful place.
There was no hope left. I didn’t want to live anymore. I’m tired of trying, tired of crying. I’m tired of faking my smiles, and faking my happiness. I may be smiling, but inside I’m dying.
Goodbye.
this is how i feel at school
