Another day. I began my day around 6:30, dreading what seemed to be just another day. Sitting on my bed. Tears running down my face. Trying to congregate the confidence to walk into school or should I call it my worst nightmare. I put on a dress and boots to make myself appear presentable. Then comes the makeup which clouds the imprints left from the tears. I progressively try to hold back the tears; the tears that never seem to cease. I gather my necessities for school, ready to conquer what felt like one of the hardest days of my life. Little did I know it was not just going to be hard; it was painful. Feeling as if someone just punched you in the heart and wanting to fall to floor, that is a crisis that seems to crush someones morale more than anything.
Walking through the doors into four walls that held every memory that was traumatic enough to make my body weak and my ego fragile. For ten seconds I walk in complete silence with my head down, then the hushed hallway ends and I step through the imaginary doorway where the overwhelmed feeling of humiliation produces. The four minutes that it takes for me to go to my locker and back to my classroom feels like an endless burden. I step into my class, but only to take attendance before I approach one of the most challenging components of my day for me mentally.
Throughout the last few months all I have wished for was to stay strong. It was not to convince inconsiderate people that what they did not affect me but to prove to myself that I was as strong as people see me to be. It was not that I wanted to let other people down. It was for me to know that there was more to this world than days full of horrifying experiences.
Slowly walking through the halls where I see everyone. I see the people I could have never imagined turning on me. Looking left tears fill my eyes. Looking forward the tears dry. The sight of people that I thought were gonna be my friends infinitely pierced my heart. Swallowing my tears consistently and finishing a walk to my class that felt endless. I thought I had made it. I sat down and began my work.
I assumed the hardest part of the day had concluded. It was time to focus my mind on something besides the endless drama, breathe through the stress of the moment, and begin the school-work that somehow made me content. Sitting in my favorite class I came to the realization that I could not walk through the halls with tears in my eyes anymore. In that exact minute the tears that seemed to never stop began to trickle down my face. Within minutes I had texted my mom and she sent my dad to get me.
The phone rang. Who knew this would be the last time I was dismissed from class. I stood up and smiled when my name was called because I never have felt more relief. Walking through the quiet halls tears began to roll down my cheeks once again. I saw my dad standing in the office and I had a gut feeling that this was it. This was the last time I would ever walk through the halls of High School.
Goodbye to the tears. Goodbye to the days of not wanting to wake up. Most importantly, goodbye to the girl that felt hopeless in a school with so many people that she used to call her friends.