Penny For Your Thoughts

2

Another day at school. Another dreadfully dull day. Another nine hours of sitting in the back row of a classroom, staring at random points on the walls as the teacher droned on and on about Russian politics and square roots and organic compounds and French subjunctives. Another nine hours of trying to restrain myself from screaming out of boredom and jumping through a window.

So much diversity in the building, even in just one classroom, and still I could not find a group I was comfortable in, a group that was comfortable with me. Why must the life of a teenager be so hard? I was so much better off without people. People would always let you down. I sometimes let myself down, but, unfortunately, I could not escape myself.

The notebook I wrote in when I wasn't involved in a conversation was almost full - probably because I was rarely ever involved in a conversation. Except for that one girl... I didn't even know her name, but she was always too perky when she asked me about my day. It was like sunshine and rainbows came bursting through my stormy gray aura every time she said hey. Of course there was him, but we never had any classes together...

I guess I should have been grateful that someone took the time to talk to me, and I would have been had I thought that she actually wanted to be my friend, that she hadn't just wanted to be able to add "brought joy to the suicidal on a daily basis" to her résumé.

Suicidal. When did that start? When did I earn that label? I told myself I didn't know, but the raised scars on my arms said otherwise.

As the teacher entered the classroom and began to speak about last night's homework, I snapped out of my dark thoughts. I pulled my dark sleeves down over my arms, my wrists, my hands, and I shrank back into my dark corner in the back of the well-lit room, completely surrounded by darkness. Too much darkness. Overwhelming darkness.