Lost In My Mind

School

I hate how parents think that teenagers hate school because we are "teenagers". But that's not the reason. Who wants to go to a place where they are judged, bullied, pushed around, the list goes on. The teachers expect us to act like teenagers when they treat us like children. Guys trying to grab every girl in the school until the finally get lucky. Girls dressed with every part of their skin showing in hopes a boy will notice them.

But not me. I try to cover up my body. I don't like guys googly eyes over me, in fact I try not to like anybody. I find the idea of "love" idiotic. Love is an over used word that people can't stop saying. They think they know what love is but then they will find a way to break people's hearts.

Anyways school is pretty terrible except for my English class. My last English teacher had decided to put me in a college English class. He said my work was "unique and outside the box". Which means my poems and stories can be kinda dark. But it's no biggie.

Today in class we had to write a poem that explained society.

Perfect. Now it's time for me to rant. My poem has to be perfect.

Mrs. Charles had given us 10 minutes to write. "Alright class who would like to share their poem?"

I immediately raised my hand.

"Holly. Go ahead." Mrs. Charles said with a smile on her face. I'm pretty sure I'm her favorite student. Not to brag or anything.

I stand up in front of the class. I become nervous but I swallow my anxiety and clear my throat.

"People tell you to be yourself.
But when I be myself,
I am judged
But when I try to move away I cant budge.
People make fun
But don't understand that it feels like a gun
Like a gun that is pointed at my head,
While I am feeling the dread.
Because I cannot be myself in this crazy society.
It's funny how people in the world can be such a pity.
No don't be yourself
When you can be someone else
Some one who is better than you."

I then go and sit back in my seat.

"Thank you Holly." Mrs. Charles says. She gives a little nod as if to tell me that she agrees.

At the end of class, I begin to back up. As I walk out of the class, someone taps my shoulder. I turn around and see a boy.

Now wait a minute. Let's think this through. Why is their a boy tapping your shoulder? Why is a boy even noticing you?

"Hey." The boy says shyly, " I just wanted to say that your poem was really cool."

"Thanks." I say sorta shrugging him off.

"My names Marcus by the way." He says with a smile.

I look at him. "My names Holly."

"Well it was nice to meet you. See you later." With that Marcus leaves.

No Holly. Don't get involved. Don't do anything you will regret...