Walking down the empty halls of the high school is like a dream come true. No one there to judge you, or tease and make fun of you. No fake friends screaming your name in the hallway and then racing through the crowd to come and hug you. No groups of kids gossiping on the sides. No drama. No bullsh*t. Just you and your thoughts.
Then the bell rings and the once peaceful and quiet hallway becomes a loud mess of students rushing to get to their next class. The popular kids are yelling things across the hallways to each other. The couples are holding hands and making plans for the end of the day on their way to class. The kids who are just there and don’t have, or deserve I guess you could say, a classification are chatting quietly with their friends who accompany them to their next class. The nerds quickly and very quietly make their way to class always walking with their heads down as if to avoid eye contact with the wrong person.
Not me. I’m the nobody. I’m lower than the nerds. I’m the girl that no one even knows is there. I walk alone. But I don’t walk to class like all of the other students do. I make my way straight for the bathroom. I walk as quietly as someone can walk swerving around the groups of people and ducking out of the view of the teachers. There is only a minute left to get to class and I safely make it to the bathroom.
The bathrooms are old and smelly. They all have three or four H-styled stalls lined up in a row with the last stall in the corner facing the wall to the right of the door. Immediately next to the stalls there are the old rusty sinks. They all have the little turn dials to adjust the temperature of the hot or cold water. Two or three of the sinks have mirrors in front of them but they aren’t really good considering they are smeared with dirt and dust and germs. Next to the sinks in the corner is the towel dispenser. The tiny little crank on it is broken so they leave the thing open allowing the students to simply grab the paper towel roll. Directly across from the sinks and mirrors there is a tiny bench for the athletes to sit on while putting on their appropriate attire. To the left of the bench directly across from the stalls is an old rusty heater that makes a heck of a lot of noise. The trash can doesn’t really have a specific place, it is generally in the corner under the paper towel dispenser but sometimes it is moved.
I look around the bathroom in disgust and tell myself the time will pass quickly. I hear the clanking of a teacher’s heels walking down the hall so I quickly pick a stall, close and lock the door, and pretend to be using the bathroom. I hear the teacher enter the bathroom checking for kids who are skipping. After a few seconds she leaves so I flush the toilet to make it seem more real and exit the stall. I turn the faucet on and put my bag down. It’s so nasty in the bathroom I decide to actually wash my hands. After I dry my hands off I check the hall. All clear, I am free to stay.
About twenty minutes pass and I’m bored out of my mind so I decide to take a stroll around the school and see what new things I can discover in this huge school. Again stepping into the quiet hall is absolutely magnificent. There is a window open near bye and the breeze feels amazing. The smell of the outside world warms my nose and clears my head.
As I’m taking in all the smells of the outside world my thoughts run free and I find myself asking, “Why are you doing this?” Well Ms. Conscience, I am doing ‘this’ because of you! Because you made me a nobody. You forgot to open your mouth and make friends this year. You forgot to ask for new clothes and new school supplies. You messed up again, just like you have every year in the past. Nobody wants to talk to a girl who wears clothes that she has owned since she was practically 7. No one wants to talk to a girl who is shy and only says stupid things. No one wants to be friends with someone like me and it’s your entire fault Ms. Conscience!
The loud footsteps I hear behind me snap me out of my argument with myself. I hear the people calling to me, “Miss, are you okay?” Someone loudly whispers, “Why is she just sitting there?” Someone else, “Why is she crying?” I quickly realize I haven’t moved an inch from that same window I was talking about earlier. I also realize the argument I had with myself had made me cry. I wipe away my tears, stand up and as quickly as I can I rush away.
I still hear the footsteps and loud whispers behind me. I remember a staircase being just around the next corner so I pick up my pace. When I get to the bottom of the staircase I have an option. To the left or the right? I hear the door at the top of the stairs open so I swing open the door to the right of me and I quietly go through the door to the left. Just as I think they are gone I hear someone say “Split up.” I run halfway down the hallway, take my first right, and go into a conveniently empty class room on my left. I close and lock the door of this class room. I also turn of the lights to make it look like there was no one in that room today.
I hear the teachers walk right by my hideout classroom and I let out a quiet sigh of relief. It’s now been 35 minutes into class and I need to find a new bathroom to hide out in. I wait a few more seconds to make sure there is no one in the hall. I slowly unlock and open the door, look both ways, and step outside the classroom. There is a bathroom not to far away from here I think to myself.
On my way to the bathroom I listen to the silence, remembering why doing what I did was worth it. When I arrive at the bathroom I go into a stall, hang up my bag on the hook, and sit on the top of the toilet so it looks like no one is in there. All is going well, it is nice and quiet. There are no distracters; there is no one else, just me and my thoughts. Or at least I think no one else…I tell myself that it is far to quiet for another person to be in there. Checking my watch I notice there is only five minutes left of school. Another sigh of relief is released.
A minute before the bell rings I hear something. It is the sound of soft sobbing. The bell rings and I see a girl leave the stall next to me. I didn’t see her feet when I checked under all the stalls. I wonder if she knew I was there. I wonder if she is okay. I follow her out of the stall hoping to catch up with her and ask if she’s okay. I quickly realize that I am a nobody and she probably wouldn’t tell me anyway so I decide to just follow her and see what she does.
She doesn’t even know I am following her. She hasn’t made any contact with anyone in the hallways; in fact no one seems to notice she is there. I shush myself saying that she has to have friends; she looks like a kind smart girl. As I continue to follow her I notice her swerving around crowds and ducking out of the view of teachers just like I do.
She gets caught behind two groups of people so she just stops and waits, no one notices she is there except me and I want to shout at those groups and say, “Hey! Don’t you see that girl behind you, she is trying to leave and you guys are blocking the way!” But…I am a nobody and they wouldn’t listen to me anyway.
I decide to take this opportunity to talk to her. I approach her quietly as if not to scare her off. When I am directly behind her I tap her on the shoulder. She turns around with a look of shock and confusion on her face. I speak up for the first time in my life and I say, “Hey you probably don’t know me but I noticed you crying as you left the bathroom near the art rooms today…” she doesn’t speak so I continue, “Actually, I was in there too. I didn’t even know you were in there, you were so quiet. But in the last few minutes I heard you crying and I saw you leave so I followed you…” She starts to smile, “Because I wanted to see if you were okay.” Her face lights up and she says, “You noticed me.” “Well yea…” I say confused. “People don’t normally do that. Notice me.” She says with a smile.
I’m not alone! I start to smile but before I can even ask her what her name is she is gone. Vanished like the wind. And I realize I’m not alone. I’m not the only one the rest of the students completely ignore. I start to feel happy and I think to myself, ‘thank you Ms. Conscience for finally speaking up. For speaking up when it mattered.’ ‘When it mattered’ I repeat to myself. For the first time something actually mattered. For the first time I spoke. For the first time I may have possibly made a friend.
Promising myself I will find that girl, and not only ask her what her name is, but become her friend so she knows she is not alone, I leave the school.