“Dad, I’m going upstairs!”
My dad always tries to get me out of the house to try and socialize with other people, but I’d rather just play with my cat or watch movies at home where it’s safe. I rarely get out of the house; I only leave to school and come back home right after. On the weekends, I stay in my room, cut off from civilization. But I think it’s better that way. Home is where I feel safe. It’s where my cat is, my dad is, and the wifi. It’s got everything I need.
“Hey Oliver,” I said to my purring cat as I sat down next to him.
Oliver is basically my best friend. I know I sound like a freak, having a cat as a best friend, but it's true. My cat was always there for me through my darkest times. I’ve never had many friends and I’ve been told that I’m not an easy person to talk to. But for some reason Oliver has always stood by my side. When I first met Oliver I was nine. I remember going to the park with my parents and seeing a little kitty the size of my arm, run up to me. That night, when we took him home, my mom left. That was the last day I saw her. I’m 16 now, and I’ve learned that people come and go. I guess that’s why I’m so hard to talk to now. I stopped letting people into my life. I stopped letting people in, because they were just going to leave.
From the time when my mom left, up until now, has been a blur of colors rushing by. When she first left it was blue. Full of sadness, sorrow, and grief, terrified of having to grow up without a mom and wondering why she left or if I did something wrong. Over the years, blue turned into red. The piercing color of rage. I hated my mom, I resented her. She was an idiot for leaving my dad and I. She had no reason to leave - we both made her happy, but if that wasn’t enough for her, then maybe it was better if she did leave. Then red turned into black. Nothing. Numb. I could care less about my mom. I rarely even thought of her. That's when I started shutting people out. That’s when my best friend became a stranger, and my dad became just another person. I didn’t care anymore. Nothing mattered. Since then, I’ve been stuck in this never ending color of black.
BEEP- BEEP- BEEP
“Ugh!” I yelled as I turned my alarm off.
Today is the first day of my junior year. I’ve been regretting this day all summer long.
After I laced up my old pair of converse and put on my thin black sweater, I headed out the door and started walking to school.
When I got to school, everything was exactly the same. There was that same annoying couple making out by my locker. And the same bubble brained jocks walking down the hallway. And of course there was my ex-best friend Emma, hanging out in the quad with all her new friends that she recently made.
Emma was my best friend all throughout elementary school. But ever since my mom left, things just weren't the same. I felt like no one could understand the pain I was going through. Over time Emma became less and less supportive and she expected me to get over it so we could go back to being as close as we were before. But I couldn’t just get over it, I needed time and support. But if I couldn’t have a supportive friend, then it’s best to not have a friend at all.
By the time I made it to my first class, I was already exhausted and irritated. I immediately found a seat and waited for time to pass. As I sat down I began observing my incoming classmates that were walking in the door. I saw the same troubled kids that I went to middle school with, and I also saw some new faces.
“Welcome back everyone, I hope you all enjoyed your summer break. My name is Ms. Johnson and I will be your English teacher.”
Ms. Johnson seemed nice but a little too perky for me. She wore a bright pink skirt that flowed a little past her knees, and a white crochet sweater. Along with her extravagant outfit, she wore her hair up in a slick bun.
I almost dozed off when I heard the door open.
“Hi. sorry I’m late, Im Josh.”
“Hi, nice to meet you, you can go take a seat.”
I couldn’t help but stare. He looked so different from everyone else here. He had long shaggy hair that flowed past his ears, blue eyes, and a smile that stretched out for miles. There was something peculiar about him that I’ve never seen in anyone before.
After seeing Josh in the morning, it put me in a really good mood. It was almost as if I acted like an entirely different person. I smiled at people in the hall and said hi to all the lunch ladies. I was truly on cloud nine.
Even as I was walking home from school, I found myself whistling all the way to my front door. I swung my front door wide open expecting to see Oliver. But instead, there was a tall middle aged woman that had a familiar face. She had short brown hair and hazel eyes. I could never forget those hazel eyes.
“Dad, I’m going upstairs!”