Mascara streaks my cheeks while the tears of a lost best friend continue to fall. My breathing becomes uneven and my heart thuds in my chest. This can't be happening. Swirls of granite walls take me over. I have to leave, get out of here. The scene is to much to bare as it unfolds infront of me. My phone vibrants after waves of text messages roll in. STOP! Please? The tears come faster rolling deep paths into what are no more laugh lines. How can this happen? Best friends are best friends. They don't believe others words over yours? They don't judge and punish? The don't crucify you to all kinds of high school damnation? They vindicate and uplift you. Promise their loyalty forever. Right? The question burned the back of my throat. It pounded like a migrane in the back of my head. This only happens on TV where best friends backstab, decieve and persecute. This wasn't TV high school this was real high school. It was setting in now cutting me down with every step I took. My pace quickened as I made my way to the bus. Leave. Get out of here. I stopped. Wanting to turn around and yell at the building that threw its fate at me. But as I looked at it I realized that it wasn't the building that hurt me it was the people in the building. Keep moving my mind screamed at me as I turned again heading for the buses. The seats were hard but the whispered comforts to me. Home, I'm headed home now. I'm safe now. Just as the bus pulled out the thought crossed my mind. What about tomorrow when I have to come back?
High School Persecutions
February 2, 2010