All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
The Day I Was Gone
Part of me was actually happy, but why was I feeling this way if I lost it all? At first when it all happened my first instinct was to skip school the next day. I didn't want to confront anybody and feel worse about the whole situation. When things like this happen it's like if the whole world falls on top of you. As if I was smashed in between the hot burning floor and the heavy empty sky. The same empty feeling you get when you are on the highest point of a roller coaster and it suddenly drops.
My friends are my whole world. They are the only ones who know most of your secrets, your fears, your weaknesses, which they mostly protect, but can also use against you. That's what happened to me. My three best friends, the only ones I hung out with at school, the ones that seemed they "cared" about me, all of a sudden decided to make my life a living hell.
One night after arriving from spring break, the only thing I wanted to do was to tell my friends everything that happened to me there. As soon as I got home, my phone automatically connected to the wifi, surprisingly I didn't have any notifications, which felt weird. I immediately felt something was wrong. Before telling you everything that happened, you should know that my friends were not like all friends. They were very superficial, they criticized even the socks you wore. If you didn't have the same clothing brands they used, you were irrelevant. You were automatically deemed as inferior. They used any excuse to fight and go against you. That night I called one of my friends, the one I felt the most comfortable with when talking about crazy s***. As soon as she picked up there was something about her voice that sounded off, which stifled my excitement. That’s when I knew something was very wrong, and as always, I thought I was the problem.
I started telling her about the insane things that happened to me that week; boys, parties, and anything you can imagine. I stayed with my cousin in Barcelona without my parents, the rest is history. I admit it, for someone to be my age at that time, you could have your doubts about what had happened. She answered, “Yeah sure, aha.” in a b****y tone, I could tell she didn't believe me. I hung up.
I called my second friend, the one I thought was my "best friend". Apparently, both of them were together and had decided to mess with me. She answered, “Hi, what do you want?”, before I could say anything she said "If you are telling me that same story, please don't", I hung up.
I didn't know what to do. I felt lonely. Who was I going to hang out with at school? I called my last resource, my third friend. When she answered she said “Omg heyy!! I miss you so much! How was your vacation?”. I first told her about what happened with the other two girls, “But why?” she answered. I was so confused with all that was happening, you could hear the agitation in my voice. She was able to calm me down and make me forget about what they had told me, so I moved on and told her about my vacation. “No wayy!! Reallyyy?? OMG, you are so lucky. I also had a crazy adventure too, it was epic and actually is kind of similar to yours hahaha. I´ll tell you all about it when I go back to school on Wednesday.” she said. Everything was fine until I realized she wasn't going to school the next day. We said goodbye and hung up.
I started crying, I didn't know what to do. I had never felt so alone in my whole life and I couldn't face the fact that I had no one to be with at school. If I didn't have anyone to be with, it would've been social suicide, and it's not like I had much social life left. How was I going to tell my parents I wasn't going to school the next day? I didn't want to face my “friends”, and I'm sure they wouldn't of let me stay at home. But somehow I convinced them. They already knew there was something wrong with me and when my parents start suspecting something they dig deep to know what is going on. I hate when my parents see me cry, and mostly when it comes to friends, but when they do, the only thing that worries me is that they will think less of me and that I can't stand up for myself.
There's a lot more to this situation, but I think some of you can guess what happened next. So yeah, believe it or not, I stopped hanging out with my three “best friends”. I realized I faked being someone I wasn't to fit in, to be their friend that day, I preferred not to talk nor say what I thought about things, just so they didn't go against me, but when I did say my opinion, it made me feel excluded. After a long talk with my school counselor the day I went back to school, I told her about who I wanted to start hanging out with and that's what I did, I changed and I choose better friends, the best ones. Which has been the best decision I've made in my whole life.
Happiness. The greatest feeling of all time. I met happiness once I started hanging out with the best people ever, then, my best friends. I loved them with all my heart. I can't even describe to you how important these people were to me. When I was with them I could be myself no matter what. They are the most relatable, reliable, caring, happiest, loving people I've met in my whole life. Literally, every time I talked about them I smiled, that's how happy they made me.
Of Course, we weren't that close at the beginning, but we were able to build an amazing friendship. At first, I still had the mindset I had from when I hung out with my other group of friends, which made it hard for me to understand what was important to me and not to them, they were pretty different to the things I was used to care about, meaning superficial things. Sometimes, when I was with them I felt like I didn't fit in and being honest, I sometimes felt embarrassed about them because they weren't a “popular” group. To this point, from all of the times I got embarrassed about them, I felt extremely sorry and ungrateful. I feel like I owe them what made me the person I was, which I loved and miss because I was simple-hearted and much friendlier, until all started changing for me.
About a year after I left my old friend group, I finally talked to them again. I realized that a part of me missed them and also how a part of me still thought like them. One day we sat down to talk about how we had been doing because after the day I stopped hanging out with them, they also stopped hanging out with each other. We all parted different ways and started hanging out with different people. We talked about how we liked our new friends, and hearing them hate on them and complain about their friends, it made me realize I was extremely happy and I wouldn't change mine for the world. Until I was forced to.
This is how I was formed. My name is Margot, I am 17 years old and I'm here to tell you about all crazy s*** that happens in my life. I was born and raced in Boston, Massachusetts, and it being a big city, only a few know each other. Now I live in a little town named Willowdale, Pennsylvania. It was a huge change because coming from a big city like Boston where only people at my school knew me, now, here everyone knows everything about everyone. The story I told you before, ended 2 months before I had to leave Boston. Just when I started to be truly happy and proud of who I was, I had to leave everything I cared about behind me. I couldn't believe it, after all the things I went through, why did I have to leave? I begged my parents for us not to move, but due to my father's new job as a history professor at Willowdale University, we had to.
The day we moved there, the only thing I could think about was school. What if people didn't like me? What if they were rude and I had no friends? I could only think of all the progress I did with my friends back home, and now is like none of that happened, which a very small part of me was kind of content about because I was going to be able to start from scratch and be myself.
We got to Willowdale at about 7:30 pm that day, it was already dark, very cold, but full of light, it was beautiful, just like the towns from the movies. There were cute little shops, cafes, and the local Ice cream shop was painted in pastel colors, with marvelous 70s vibes and the biggest variety of flavors, and my favorite, mint chocolate chip, it was the best. There was music playing all around the town, everyone was out walking and hanging out in the town square, I felt astonished by the beauty of this town and hoped to have the best time there.
When we got to the new house, I couldn't believe my eyes. It was gorgeous. The whole house was white with two front, cylinder, white columns at the sides of the entry way. They were located in front of the impressive shiny, wooden front door, that was as big as an elephant. I thought of it as a fun-size mansion. When you get to the house, in front of it you'll see a tall, wide, white house, with a green front yard full of white flowers surrounding it, and a small staircase in between the two tall columns. In the front porch, there was a wooden swinging chair, as old as time. When you walked into the house there was a beautiful table holding a red, glass base with fresh, red roses. Behind it, there was the staircase, which divided in two in the middle, leading to the second floor, one side led to the left and the other to the right side. On the right side of the table, there was the door to the kitchen, as soon as you walked in the satisfying smell of fresh, baked cookies dominated your smell, the walls were painted pastel blue and it had little, yellow flowers painted all over it. It was all organized and very clean. In the kitchen there was a door that led to the backyard, with a cute little breakfast table and a playground full of flowers, the best part was the set of wooden swings, I couldn't wait to swing as high as the clouds. Back to the table, to the left side, there was the dining room with an elegant glass table and a beautiful, old painting of a naked woman. Inside the dining room, if you faced the stairs, there was a door that leads to a living room, and in the living room, there was a door that led back to the backyard. I loved that house, my room, upstairs was my favorite part. It was medium size, but the best thing about it was the breathtaking view, it overlooked the whole town square, and I loved observing the people that passed through. The window had the softest, cushioned seat, where I sat and looked out the window. I thought that since everything seem so splendid, it would last, but it didn't.