The Inside me Mirror

School

            Sophomore year of high school was ending in only two days as I sat drawing in class. Friends were signing yearbooks, and Sarah had been writing in mine all class. She worked for an hour and a half, flipping through pages, writing some then moving on to the next page. It was almost as if she was making a scavenger hunt for me to go through later, it would take longer for her to write it all then for me to go through it.

            I was still drawing a picture of a lake, that I had been working on for three days, when the bell finally rang. Yearbooks were passed quickly back to their proper owners as everyone rushed to get out of school. Sarah quickly finished off what she was writing and handed to me. We said our good byes and see you tomorrows to everyone as I rushed to meet my boyfriend outside. I was staying the last week of school just to be with him, I was supposed to be moved to Jersey but I convinced both my parents to let me stay.

Kieryan gave me a hug, “Hey, you’re late.”

I hugged him back, “I’m sorry, Sarah was still writing in my yearbook.” I swiped his black out of his eyes so that I could see his emerald eyes.

He gave me a quick kiss, “It’s fine, but I have to catch my bus. Love you, bye.” He then ran off to catch his bus.

            As I walked home thoughts of sophomore year went through my head. The year had been a good one, I had a boyfriend of five months when it started, my friends were all back and the year just started with a good vibe. Field hockey season had been better from freshmen year, we actually won some. My friends had gotten closer and we were excited to become juniors. Class had been fine, except for chemistry but everything worked out in the end. Half way through the year I got to experience my first Valentine’s Day and one year anniversary. Even right up to now the year was great. Passed finals and standardized testing, my best friend was going to Guatemala with the peace core and also with her sister and now only one day from being a junior.

            High school years are what I looked forward to as a child, but now that I’m here, I ask myself why? Granted I have a terrible memory and can’t remember past eigth grade and even some of freshmen year at times, but high school is nothing to look forward to.

            My memory isn’t all bad I have a gist of everything that has happened to me, but I can’t remember a lot of it. This year just happened to be a lucky one, sure there were issues and fights but they worked out and everything got better again. I couldn’t wait for summer to relax. We’d only move to jersey for summer, as we did since I was a kid. Three months of beach, sun and summer. I’d miss my boyfriend and best friend but I come back for school, so why not just take a break from everything?

            As I arrived home from school, my dog came outside to greet me. The house was simple, two stories and brick. Inside the house was filled with suitcases, bags and even some boxes. I got to live with my grandparents in the summer while my parents came to visit on weekends and holidays.

            I sat down on the sofa and pulled my yearbook out of my bag. I looked at the signatures I collected from today, two friends I saved from suicide, one I stopped from cutting and generic friends that wrote ‘Have a great summer’ or “Didn’t this year go by fast? See you next year.” Sarah had made a scavenger hunt that took me through our entire school year. She wrote on almost every page something to help me remember the day or event she was talking about. She made sure to put detail just so in a few years, when I can’t remember this year fully, I can look back and have an idea of what happened.

            I put away my school stuff and filled my backpack with sketchbooks, notebook and a book for the trip tomorrow. I do a lot of drawing and writing, I’ve written two books and working on a third. I have been drawing longer than anything though, it’s a great way to relax and see how others see things. Five people could draw the same thing, but they all turn out different because they all see the scene in a different way. There was no right or wrong way to draw something because of that. Which is what pushes me to keep drawing, someone else can see my view on life.