Looking Back at Me

November 7, 2007
By Kristina Quitos, East Lansing, MI

I woke up one morning, looked in the bathroom mirror, and by my surprise a different face was looking back at me. It was a familiar face, but her actual name, I could not remember. It was that girl, the quiet one, in my chemistry class… but what is her name?!

“Sarah you’re going to be late for school! Let’s get going!” My mom yelled at me.

Oh yes! Sarah! I knew that. Sarah was that girl always stuck in a book.

“Sarah! Hurry Up!” Without anymore thought to why I was in this skinny girl’s body, I grabbed my backpack and flew out the door to catch the bus.

Once on the bus I made my way to my usual spot in the back of the bus. After pushing through screaming teenagers and flying papers I finally got to the back, but I almost jumped back when I saw someone in my seat—Ashley St. James. That was me! My own face, or well former face, was staring back at me with cold eyes.

“Um…are you like lost or something? You definitely belong way up there.” My eyes followed her finger as she pointed to the front of the bus. I went back to where I was told to sit, hearing a faint smirk from behind me as I walked away. I took my spot one of the ugly and torn blue seats, completely speechless. I stayed silent the whole ride to school; the only thing that shook me from my trance was the squeaky sound of the bus doors opening. Just as I stood up to leave, I was shoved back into my seat as Charlotte and Christine, my former friends, strutted by laughing at every word Ashley said.
The rest of the day was similar to the bus ride, I was shoved into lockers, tripped in the hallways, and excluded from my lunch table, the one I had sat at everyday since the beginning of the year. After a few hours I began to get used to the abuse, but what surprised me the most was that it was Ashley bulling me the entire time. Was I really this horrible? Did I push this innocent girl around like she was worthless? My pondering was interrupted by an odd, cold, slimy sensation. As I felt a strawberry banana smoothie, a previous favorite of mine, absorb its way through the back of my shirt, I heard suppressed giggling from behind.

“Oh my gosh! I’m soo sorry.” Christine said with a hint of sarcasm, attempting to keep the laughter from escaping her lips.
The threesome began to walk away, but while they were still within my range of hearing, Ashley was able to compose herself and talk. “Really? We just did that girl a favor, I mean did you see that color?!” Once again the trio broke into unstoppable laughter. I ran to the bathroom, eyes drowning in tears, the room seemed to be spinning, all sounds because piercing, almost like one continuous beep.

My alarm clock continued for another minute until I was able to comprehend it had been a dream. I ran into the bathroom, the mirror showed the perfectly tan face I remembered. Yet, the same person wasn’t staring back at me, even if it had been a dream, I had changed. I may have been Ashley St. James physically, but starting right then, I was going to be a different girl.

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