Weeds

November 14, 2007
By
There is a proverb “One man sees a weed, the same weed to another, may be a flower.” I thought that it was the perfect proverb to describe my life.
It all began when I started high school, I used to laugh at the name “high” school because it fit so perfectly, almost everyone I saw was on drugs, and high every so often. But I had no one to laugh with. The teachers barely noticed me, they brushed me away almost not knowing I was there, I was just a nuisance. The bullies never beat me up, they didn’t know I existed. I got average grades, I never signed up for anything, I was nothing.
I was sitting in Biology class, taking notes, when I raised my hand to ask a question, and, as I expected, the teacher didn’t see me. “Oh well, I just won’t understand it, like always,” I thought, I never got noticed. When we got finished with notes, we were given some class time to work on homework. This one girl that sat fairly close to me liked to talk to any living person she could find, and she was nice to all of them, except the one or two exceptions. She saw me! Someone actually saw me and talked, like a real conversation! I don’t remember the conversation at all, but I do remember it was so exciting I stuttered a lot, and tried to be normal but failed. I felt so beautiful and free, I felt like an angel. I knew that this person was a godsend.
I became friends with this girl, and she introduced me to some of her friends. I craved more and more conversation. I felt big, and noticed. I actually got into trouble! It was the first time in school that I had gotten noticed, it was bad attention, but it was attention. I got into more and more trouble; I began to come late to classes and went to detention. The teachers began to learn my name, even though it was halfway through the year. I started to become sullen and bad-tempered, despising people more than I ever had. I felt like I was a big, bad, thorny weed that wouldn’t go away. But, the girl that was in biology noticed, and asked what was wrong, I ignored her. I thought that drugs were the solution to human idiocy, but now I see that drugs cause much of the idiocy. I got more and more depressed; a feeling of hatred overwhelmed me. The girl in biology randomly came up from behind me and hugged me whispering in my ear, “no matter how depressed or unhappy you get, I want you to know that I still think you’re great!”, she giggled and skipped to her class. It just melted my heart, untrapping it from its frozen prison of hate. I felt guilty; I felt I had shrunk from a big, nasty weed to a dandelion that hadn’t bloomed. During the next class, I felt better, I paid attention, and I understood the material. As soon as I saw her next, I gave her a giant hug and said, “I love you!” and then ran to my last class. Now I didn’t just feel beautiful, I felt gorgeous. I was a gorgeous weed.
I’m still not noticed quite as much as others, but I feel great! If you get a chance, talk to someone, make their lives better. Remember, “Weeds are the strong and persistent creatures that live in weak circumstances.”





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