Most say the teenagers of today are going to their deaths. I’m not surprised. I don’t even know how bad it can be, between sex and drugs and drama. Sometimes I walk to a bridge in my town and climb over the railing to just feel the adrenaline. What if I jump? Would anyone care?
Today’s no different. Or is it? Today is Allessa’s birthday. And a short day. And anything but a backpack day for spirit week. It doesn’t feel different. I feel high and ready to sleep, but of course, I know I won't.
Logan always jokes I am weird when I have a ton of caffeine. In reality, it’s just an act so that she and Allessa don’t know I’m always numb. Theirs hardly a feeling that slips by besides the consistent headaches and depression that eat’s me whole.
I study my teal nails with little white hearts regretting not telling the lady who did them it wasn’t what I wanted. I picture Allessa’s perfect nails and try to think how they would look on my hand. When I see it, I’m just mad, for no nails could look as good on me as they do on Allessa, with her naturally tan skin.
“What do you want to do when you're older?” She asked me while the teal paint was drying. I take a second to run through my thoughts. I’ve had this conversation a thousand times in my head, like any important conversation. “An actor, writer, maybe an event planner, or interior designer,” I say. I silently curse for not sticking to the plan. I also add in my head how I could never be an actor compared to Logan. Her voice is stunning and at least she can get leads in the school plays unlike me. My writing sucks, and when I make it halfway through a story I get mad and give up. And just like my mom tells me I could never be organized to do event planning or interior design.
I lay awake the whole night, tossing and turning, trying to shut up the stupid and geeky thoughts in my mind.
By the time I make it to school the next day, I’m numb again. In my math class, I try not to look numb. I think about the outfit I tried on for the dance the next day. It’s a cute short black skirt, with a mech black shirt, and pink flowers dyed on. When I turned to the side I sighed and sucked in my belly. Everyone told me I had a great body, I was tall and skinny, but when you zoomed in I wasn’t. I had blackheads on my nose, and I was skinny from the front but had a fat stomach. There were so many things it made me not just mad, but also sad. Last year my mom found out about my sadness, and now I see a therapist every two weeks. I don’t blame her.
Today as the day progresses I fantasise about how high school will be different. At 13, I’ll be one of the youngest kids in the school. I never skipped a grade, I was just young I was a year younger than almost everyone in my old friend group.
I never missed my old friend group. I had a love-hate friendship with Devon. She was never bad she was just not a good friend. I used to love hanging out with Heidi. She was smart and trusted me enough to show me her other side. Avey was kind until she wasn’t. Sage was like me, not rich, and not considered smart.
And then in 5th grade, the new kids took over our friend group. Luna and Claudia became popular, but not like that was achieving much in our small school. All the boys started asking them out, and I was quickly kicked out of the group.
That was the summer my parents sent me to sleep-away camp. The first one was for acting. Two whole weeks with just one Hayden Baily and one Lizzy and Quinn. We danced in the local Fourth of July parade, went to town, and performed The Adams Family. When I got back from that camp, my mom decided to send me to another camp. That camp involved hiking and camping and memories. They nicknamed me fox, for my unique fetchers. I can't even remember their names, but I do remember one day a kid said his favorite god was “the female goddess of awesomeness.”
6th grade was the worst. I had no friends, I wasn’t yet in the advanced class. I had no passion.
I went back to the camping sleepaway camp. This year for two weeks. That year I was PJ. I met Kush, and Asher, and Elise.
And then there was 7th grade. In 7th grade, I tried out for Mmmbeth, a one-act, and modern re-telling of Macbeth. At first, everyone was a bitch. Logan was the weird and rich kid. Allessa was a ski jock and had an ego about getting the lead. And then something clicked, and we ended up spending the year together. As friends. I wonder if they still remember all the plays we wanted to write, or The Golden Retrievers and Black Labs. I wonder if they remember Lulu.
And then the year was over, with only one incident where I swam into a wall and got a scab on my nose. I went back to the summer camp for the third year. This time Brielle came, and I believe she brought bad luck. That year was the summer of misfits. Clemmie stole and ran away at night. Lucas was nice, but transgender. The two brothers were racists and ate the pickles.
And then 8th grade started. As a school tradition, we went backpacking and of course, it overlapped with my birthday. But as much as my group was the leftovers, they were great.
As the school year progressed, I could feel myself growing apart again. I would watch and everyone would talk about things that stabbed me. I cried a lot. And I got up and moved on228Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMAfsWKM2FD
