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3 Seats Back, and to the Left MAG
A new school
 Means a new school bus
 Littered everywhere with crumbled, 
 sticky wrappers,
 The smell of children's body odor,
 Absolutely suffocating.
 Piles of unspoken rules,
 Soon accidentally learning the first one:
 Stay out of the high schoolers' section.
 Quickly redirected a few seats toward 
 the middle,
 I get stuffed in a seat with two other girls,
 Not even enough room to take a breath
 Makes me overwhelmingly self-conscious in the crampedness.
 So I waste endless time watching the 
 other riders
 'Cause that's all I do,
 Just watch, and see
 First, a kid throwing pennies at the driver.
 Stupid.
 Then, two girls trying to hide in the back making out.
 And finally, the boy glaring, without a doubt, directly at me
 Three seats back, and to the left.
 
 Two years later,
 Exactly,
 Three seats back, and to the left
 Now I sit
 With that guy who stared at me that day,
 And many after,
 But only because he liked my mangy-
 looking hair.
 We turned out being best friends,
 Every day, ignoring the blaring pop music
 For Asking Alexandria, Black Veil Brides,
 And especially System of a Down
 Screaming from costly headphones,
 Absolutely perfect.
 Until the traveling gas chamber reached 
 his stop,
 And he reluctantly trudged off the bus,
 Every agonizing day,
 Away from me.
 
 Two years later,
 Vacancy,
 Not only beside me,
 But inside me, too.
 The guy who once sat next to me,
 Cuddled against me,
 Showed love for me,
 Has long since graduated,
 Left me behind,
 And he didn't even know it,
 Did he?
 Now, I gaze lazily out a window,
 A scratch-covered, dingy window
 To see a man
 Driving his cool, ugly-white car,
 A glance absently toward our school bus,
 But that's all he does,
 Not even a second thought.
 And that was the second,
 The sole, distinct moment
 That I crushingly realized,
 Like a kick to the chest,
 That I still sit
 Three seats back, and to the left
 But he doesn't
 Anymore.
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Favorite Quote:
“Imagining isn't perfect. You can't get all the way inside someone else...But imagining being someone else, or the world being something else, is the only way in. It is the machine that kills fascists.” <br /> ― John Green, Paper Towns