Bathroom horror

May 23, 2011
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The idea that 3rd grade was worry free makes my skin crawl with agony. Everyone loves to sugar coat their 3rd grade year and how “fun” and “easy” it was. Well those kids didn’t have high expectations for themselves. They were the kids who thought that saying your ABC’s correctly was an achievement. They were the dirt under my untrimmed fingernails. ABC’s correctly? Please. I could recite mine backwards before I reached my kindergarten class. I sometimes wished my life was as simplistic as theirs. My days all consisted of parents nagging to do better in school while still containing my bountiful friends as well as exceed in sports. The mind of a 3rd grader was not created for such pressure I produce.

I was walking in boy/girl order to the restroom in an army straight line while my eyes glared at the light-up shoes in front of me. They screamed 1st grade but that didn’t even dent his perky step to light them up. My feet drug as I pressed my lips at the horrid sight. Our synced footsteps marched down the halls filled with hand painted pictures the 1st graders easily crafted. I was soon consumed with hatred for my hectic life that my mind did not register what was happening right at that moment.
There, in front of everyone, I walked into the boys’ restroom and almost into the stall with him until the door was slammed into my face. Laughter roared around me. My eyes snapped up and met the entire class’s mouth pouring out with obnoxious laughter. I felt as though I have been thrown into the lion’s den with nothing but meat to cloth me. Their mean laughter seeped through my core until it glazed my entire body. Tears streamed down like silent death while my cheeks grew hot and cherry red.
My body broke into a cold sweat and soon I felt my feet no longer standing awkwardly in the restroom but now racing down the never ending hallways which now seemed as dark as I felt. I soon spotted a nook in the wall and I shoved my little body into it. I grasped my legs tight to my chest. I was now puffing out hot air from my extensive running. My insides wanted to jump out and the only thing I could do was sit there and hold myself. I wanted nothing more but to become nonexistent. Become invisible and hide away from the world. Hide away from the laughter which won’t escape my corrupted mind. The images won’t leave and neither will the torment which shall now follow me. Once again I broke into a disorganized rhythm of sobbing and gasping for air.





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