Imagine That [Jessie J]

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I watched her as she sat alone at her lunch table. She talked to nobody, didn't even look up. I knew that she wasn't really well-liked, but I didn't know why. The occasional times in class when I turned around to actually see her head up, I knew she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

Many times I plucked the urge to talk to her, but my friends always interfered, and I chickened out at the last moment. She's never saw me.

Obviously, I knew she wasn't from here. Somewhere northeast or whatever. In a colder country, because in the winter, she would wear absolutely nothing on her arms, or a thin jacket.

People thought she wasn't pretty, I thought she was beautiful. They say she's weird, I think she's brilliant. I've heard them call her an outsider, but I think she's just shy. It's a wonder how she didn't go back to where she came.

Nobody really bullied her, she just wasn't talked to. Yeah, she was talked about. But never really had a conversation with anybody but a teacher or a staff member.

Sometimes, I asked staff members about her. They all say positive things, such as she's "wonderful", a "great person to talk to", an "intelligent girl", and so on. And I believed everything they said about her, which made me want to at least establish eye-contact with her. If she could actually look up for once.

Rarely, I heard her say something to me. Like if I didn't look where I was going and magically walked into her in the hallway. She'd say "excuse me" and keep going. And the last time that happened, her homework slid across the hall. And that was when I finally realized her name.

Then we left high school, both of us graduating. I've never talked to her, as long as I've seen her. And I never saw her again...

Those words were spoken to my psychiatrist as I laid on the bench-chair-thing. Her brunette hair was in a high bun, glasses perched upon her nose. She was fairly young and pretty. And more than twice I've flirted with her, because I'm such a flirt.

"Is that the same story as last time, O Wise One?" I asked, lacing my fingers and resting them on my forehead.

"Exactly the same. But, Autumn. You're just going to have to face it. There was no 'Jessica' at that school--"

"Yes, there is! I saw her!" I was sitting straight up now.

"This may be a mental disorder. Schizophrenia, I'm guessing."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm perfectly normal. There was a girl named Jessica at school. End of. Now, can I go?" I asked crossing my legs.

Ms. Stall examined her clipboard, then shook her head. "No, ma'am. You still have half an hour!"

"For what? To hear you call me crazy, insane, and make up stupid diseases?"

Ms. Stall pursed her lips, and I copied her on purpose, causing her to huff in annoyance. I smirked in pride, knowing I've gotten to her. She wrote something on her clipboard.

"Okay, well this was nice and all, but I really have to go. I need to practice."

I reached onto the other side of the chair and slung my bookbag over my shoulder then stood.

"Wait, before you go, I need to give you your prescription for--"

"For antidepressants," I finished, snatching the paper from the woman and crumbling it in my hand. There was no way I was actually going to get the medication. I never did. There was nothing wrong, so why should I?

Other people glanced at me and smiled sympathetically. It took control to not roll my eyes at them as I marched out of the building I don't want to see ever again. But sadly, I knew I was going to again, next week.

Spotting my convertible, I hopped in, started it up, and hurried it out of that dreadful parking lot. My dad, who founded a popular record label, bought it for me when I turned sixteen. My red hair flowed behind me in the wind, a smile perched on my face. Again, I've managed to escape the stupid appointment early again.

Disappointment struck me still as I drove to my apartment. That Jessica girl was still nowhere to be seen. After five years, I still haven't seen her or heard a word about her. Sometimes, I wandered if she actually wasn't there, and that I just imagined her. A few times I had, but then I reminded myself that I wasn't crazy. That there actually was a shy girl named Jessica that people talked about. I've even asked my friends about if they remembered her. Like everybody else, they said they never heard of a girl named Jessica. Every time, I'd get so frustrated and just storm away. More than enough times I've heard that answer. And more than enough times I've gotten frustrated.

Arriving to my apartment, I put on my best smile and unlocked the door and walked through. I didn't live alone because I hated living alone. It was just so weird and eerie.

"Sarah, I'm home!" I called as I stepped over the threshold.

Sarah popped her head out the kitchen just as I passed it. "Hey, you! How did therapy go?"

"Same. I left early. She tried to prove me crazy. Nothing works," I shrugged, going up the stairs.

Correction: going up three steps into the second floor. The place is so small and cramped, but we never complain about it. Don't know why, I just never felt the need to. Sarah complained about it being too small the first week or so we lived here, but it died out by the second. We've just came to terms that it was perfect as it is, with all its flaws.

Sarah was an athletic brunette with brown eyes. She was shorter than me by half a foot or so. I've met her while I was looking for a roommate, and she just stuck to me somehow. And this was before I got the apartment.

She's very pretty and nice to people most of the time. Being a dancer and all, she smiles a lot and has perfect posture with whatever she does. Occasionally I'd envy her because boys ask her out all the time, and I'm just the awkward ginger. But, that's not really a problem because I don't even like guys.

At the age of twelve, one of my best friends kissed me at a sleepover, and I really liked it. Sure, I was confused and a little scared, but she was my best friend. The next day she moved, and we lost contact. But that day on, I knew I liked girls more than guys. My parents didn't disown me when I came out at sixteen, and I've felt comfortable about myself ever since.

"Did you have to repeat that story?" Sarah asked, entering my room, jellybeans in her hand. She also ate excessive amounts of candy and never gained a pound. Another reason I envied her. (But at least she envies me because I have green eyes that she thinks are gorgeous!)

"Yep," I said, tossing my bookbag in the closet and hopping on my bed. "Then she accused me of having schizophrenia or something. If she's gonna accuse me of something, make it believable!"

"Um, Autumn, schizophrenia is real. It's when you hear voices inside your head."

"Oh. I don't have that!"

Sarah patted my shoulder. "Are you sure?"

I gave her a weird look.

"I'm just kidding. Well, look. I'm gonna go out with a guy I've met in the store, and you can fantasize about Jessica."

"But--"

"Okay, 'bye!" And she disappeared.

Sarah has a bad habit of going out with guys that aren't good for her. I try to tell her that, but she doesn't listen to me. She's so set on finding her "true love" that she'll jump at the chance to go out with a guy. Even if all she knew was his first name.

Being bored with nothing to do, and absolutely tired from violin practice earlier today and the pointless therapy, I shimmied out of my jeans. Then I threw it randomly, it landing on top of my kitten, Simba. He meowed angrily at me, and I apologized to him before hopping into bed and snoozing off.