Our shoes echoed in the hallways as we shuffled groggily. My fingers burned from holding on to the amount of books I did every morning. We were lining up patiently, muttering to each other the hardships of life as if we knew. I had purposely dropped my pencil to avoid the front, to hide in the back behind a wave of people and a curtain of hair. Even from there, I could hear his menacing words, meant to kick me down and turn me into a monster. "She's your friend to push you down. Her two timing will harm you for good. Join me and we can defeat her together." His words seemed childish to my friends, who laughed at the foolish ideas. But did they know that at the back of the line, someone had heard them and silently wept? No. They had not. For if they did, they would've kept quiet and glanced back, murmuring among themselves and glancing from me to the accuser. As we passed the doorway to our next class, he muttered to a nearby classmate, "Her good grades mean nothing to you. She is worthless without them and we can destroy her if we join together." The listener snorted and hurried away, leaving the accuser with surprise and no ammo. My classmates brush off the words, dismissing each word with a wave of their hand. But I cannot. With every wave I create, he creates more ammo. Every time his words reach my ears, they sting like cuts and burns. My friends do not know the pain he had caused me, with every word weighing me down like a sinking ship. Everyday I wept tears of agony, imagining his words taking effect, feeling them buzz in my ear repeatedly. And as I went under the water, I felt no hope. Nothing could help me at all. Then, like water, the words began to slide off. My agony made a bubble around me like nothing else. His words no longer had effect. My imagination took control, and soon, I had controlled that too. I emerged from the waters, breaking the waves, ready to make anew.
April 18, 2012