It was the begining of a new school year, and it just so-happened to be my first year in highschool. I was a freshmen; freshmeat, a typical target to a new school building full of prying seniors... I was confident, however. I was certain this year would be a breeze; so sure that nothing overly dramatic would happen to me. After all, I was the "nice girl". Everyone, friends from middle school, knew me as that shy, sweet girl, who could be a bit wild when tempted. I was the conservative one who held true to her elementry school style, and wasnt going going to change it for some highschool. I had made a personal promise to myself: I would never change. I would be me, myself, and I no matter what anyone said or thought.
Me, being the excitable kind when it came to school, found the first day a thrill. The highschool building was large to my surprise- it always seemed much smaller from the outside, but I guess that's how it always is. The school broke down into three floors, all of which appeared to be a giant labryinth to me; giant blue and white labryinths. It was always an aspiration of mine to be enrolled in a large highschool with complicated halls, but staring at the reality of it all was much more intimidating then the thought of it. However, I was the determined kind. I could master the school, I was sure of it, and if not, I always had an older sister who could guided me when lost.
So it turned out, as the school year progressed I didn't really get to see much of my sister. It was rarely that our eyes met in the cluster of the hall traffic between bells, but I suppose one could I say I enjoyed the independence it gave me. I was feeling grown, I was feeling like a new person. Eventually I grew use to our rare encounters, and grew use to the diverse student body that seemed to crowd around me inbetween classes. I began to feel at home. I began to love being trapped in the swarm of students, because everytime, it was someone new; something new, and me, well I loved 'new'.
Friends were something that rarely came 'new' to me. My social life never really changed much since 8th grade. I had the same friends as I did now, and that was pretty much it. No one new ever popped, except for the occasional aquaintences forced upon me by my sister. Sometimes, when I would walk around the town in which I lived, i'd stumble across my sister, and of course, her friends. I'd stop and say hi to her, which was always followed by the chain of hellos and false comparison's between me and her by the group of teens around her that moment. Her friends would try and talk with me, and always diminshed me in size. They'd make me feel as if I were ten years younger than they, when in reality, I was only younger by one or two years. If I were that gulliable, I bet i'd believe it. But, i'd never really talk much to them. My answers were always short, always sweet, always simple, and that's how my sister's friends saw me: sweet and simple.
Bieng that I was who I was, at the time, so simple, I never had much personal confidence. Sure, I was confident when it came to ambitions and goals, but deep inside, nothing was really there. I was in a highschool filled with Italian girls way past puberty, Indians with curves and bottom beyond belief, and a fluster of female nationalities that had beauty tenfold than I. I was nothing special compared to the rest. My eyes stood a stale brown while all the other students eyes seemed to shimmer in their hues of grey's, green's, blues, and the occasional hazel's. My face was a dull mix, while everyone else appeared to be from exotic descents. My being, in my helpless eyes, was a nothing. A nobody. I was never to be noticed. Even though, I wasn't entirely sure why I wanted to be noticed. That moment I seeked what I forbade myself, a change. But by some miracle of God, my unknowledged prayers had been answered.
It was a friend of my sister's. He was no stranger. I'd seem occasionally skating around town, and one of my friends drooled over how 'sexy' he was once. He was the kind of guy I could only imagine being with. He had the looks, the personality, the friends, while me, I had nothing, which is why I was in complete and utter shock when he finally said "Hi".
To be exact, it was more of a "Heyy".
After that september night, when i received an unexpecteed inbox from him, we exchanged numbers and texted practically every night after. He was my new muse, my new source of unexplainable joy. I was even more thrilled to go to school because of "him". However, that's the only confusing part about this whole situation: when in school we rarely, practically, never, spoke. It was never his fault though, it was all me. At the time, I was still this shy girl... especially when it come to boys, and especially if I had never had the chance of having a noteable conversation with the particular other. But why was this so? I could never answer that myself. He and I would have conversations worthy of awads over text, but when it came down to it there was nothing.
- Title: The First Pt. 1
- Artist: Zailem
- Description: This is a story based off of my freshmen year of highschool. Many of, if not all, the events are true. I don't use names, soley for the purpose of keeping the reader more focused on the story rather than fixed on characters. I'm not too sure if this story belongs in the category, but I thought it would since it is basically a flashback. Enjoy! (I noticed how the story may jump too quickly between topics... sorry about that).
- Date: 08/27/2013
- Tags: first