Quiet Girl

March 25, 2009
By , Monrovia, CA
It took me a long time, a long time of waiting, of thinking, of hoping that I was getting to ahead of myself. It took me a while to realize I didn’t have any friends.
I look at the group of people surrounding the table I had sat at all semester long. I could only name half of the faces, and only a quarter knew me. I’d learned what I was considered to a lot of freshmen, the quiet girl, the weird girl, the freaky girl. I had never noticed how I was that same girl now.
Most of the people who sat at my table had spoken the same words to me all semester, ’Hey, how’s it going?’’What’s up?’ My answers were short and so were the conversations. I drew during lunch, sad faces that let tears run across the page. I should have known nobody cared from the fact I’d cried maybe three times over the course of my first five weeks in school.
I could only call one of them ‘friend’ but only because that is what they called me. They were sweet but had too many friends to count. I only knew one, which limited me being able to talk to her. She had other friends, better friends. Ones that conversed with each other and joked and laughed.
I was a nobody, I had nobody. I had screwed up freshmen year. People in both lunch and classes couldn’t relate to anything. It was heartbreaking to see that I was a reject. I wasn’t the girl from Speak; I had nothing that I should have been moping about.
I did, I sulked and sat silent. If someone asked me if I could turn back time ad do everything over again. I really would have to say no. Not because I wouldn’t be able to change anything, just that. I can’t stand an extra couple of months in school here. I’d go insane sitting alone if I did.





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