October 1, 2015 is a day I will never forget. We all have bad days, this just happened to be one of mine. I was wearing my favorite hoodie and jeans. A bright blue hoodie that says “Arboles Colorado, Navajo Lake” on it. My skinny jeans were a faded shade of blue, from light to dark. When you wear some of your favorite clothes, you don’t expect a bad day to happen because of how confident you feel. My day started off like any other. Over sleeping and tired jade shaded green eyes, no breakfast and mix matched socks, but on the bright side, my breath was minty and I left for the bus on time.

The bus is something to always ruin my day, freshman disrespecting the bus driver, seniors playing music with no emotion, the whole back of the bus being loud at 7 am. When we finally arrived at school, I went and sat at a table with my two best friends, Hayley and Caitlin. We waited quietly for the bell to ring for first hour. First hour was as usual slow. Second hour was a drag. Third hour was calm and filled with yoga vibes. Lunch, finally. I sat with my best friends again, which can make any day ten times more magnificent. Fourth hour, a foreign language class filled with students of all grades. This class manages to ruin my day just by walking in there. At last, fifth hour, one of my favorites. Usually, fifth hour goes by super-fast, but my brain decided to have a sad attack, and made the hour drag like a cigarette not being smoked. Sixth hour, another class I happen to hate. We took a test on our ecology unit, and I failed miserably. Finally, seventh hour. Not only the last class of the day, but my favorite, usually.

Within the first few minutes of class, I asked to go to the bathroom, because I had that “you’re going to have a breakdown” feeling. When I got there, I sat in front of the sinks and managed to burst into tears without trying. These tears were salty from dehydration. Thirty seconds or so into my session, a girl walked in. She did what she had to do, and when she was washing her hands, I could feel her staring at me. “What’s wrong?” She asked. Im not one to talk about my problems, so I didn’t say anything. I sat there more still then the words on my hoodie. She finished washing her hands, but didn’t even dry them. She came and sat next to me, but at an angle wear we could talk face to face. I still hadn’t moved, but it was so quiet, you could almost hear my tears falling from my eyes. I finally managed to look up at her, and once more she asked “What’s wrong?” I considered the question and actually talked to her about almost everything on my mind, I said so little, yet so much I had felt overwhelmed. This stranger actually talked me through things, and then she did something strange. She held me in a way I’ve never been held before, and she didn’t let go. Im not used to people comforting me like that, so I started crying even harder. We sat there for what felt like hours, but not in a bad way, more like a feeling of safeness. She let go and waited for me to stop crying. “Are you ready to go back to class?” She asked. I nodded my head, and she walked me to my seventh hour.

Since then, I’ve seen her around, but im scared to talk to her, because what if it was just a spur of the moment “lemme help you” kind of thing? I didn’t even ask what her name was, all I said was thank you. This stranger, made me realize that if I ever feel like someone doesn’t care, that’s a total lie. Whether it’s a stranger, friend, or family member, they care, no matter how much it feels like they don’t.