The Everyday Life of Yesterday

Chapter Two: Wish

Hi, I'm a person you vaguely know from a class you barely remember. Today we start at the end of our elementary years: The Bridging Ceremony. From prior years of school, I've learned that I just can't take a good picture, but I figured my luck could change today.

Shoulder-to-shoulder with our classmates, we stood on the big stage. I smiled, and the flash went off. I had to blink a couple of times to recover from the blinding light, but I could hear the applause of the parents below us. I laughed in pure bliss; I've never felt more proud of myself.

Finally, I stopped seeing shapes that weren't there. I gasped at the sight that was before me. My parents smiled upon seeing me standing there. I waved, excitement running through my veins. I glanced over to where you stood. You were as perfect as ever, and I was inspired to try and make a proper social life for myself at that moment.

We had our history class together. The teacher was very different from our first grade teacher, personality wise. They were very passionate about history, and some of that rubbed off on me. Despite my promise to acutally make friends, I ended up talking with the teacher during lunch nearly everyday, but there was never a time where I didn't have you in mind.

Whenever I mentioned my struggle to find a friend, our teacher always gave me the same advice. "Start a conversation with them." It was nice talking to someone. I didn't quite feel alone anymore; there was a ray of light.

I was never able to start talking to you in middle school. I did make some aquaintances in my life, but they never lasted. Whenever I felt confidence surge through my body, it was always the wrong time. When I tried to approach you in front of the school to say hi, you went home. When I made an effort to talk before class, the teacher would start. When I wasn't in our teacher's classroom, I would find myself wandering the campus looking for you.

Part of me wonders if I will ever find a friend in this world. They say you have to meet the right person, but there are so many places inhabited by so many people. How am I suppose to know who I should talk to? What if I'm not the right person for anyone? What if I don't belong?

"Of course you have a place in this world!" my mother would tell me.

"Get a hobby to take your mind off of this," my father would say. I took his advice, and found an origami website. Various step-by-step tutorials were scattered throughout the site. One of my personal favorites was a small star made from a strip of paper. Looking into it more, I found that making one thousand was suppose to grant one wish.

Whenever I was free, I would make a full set from a sheet of paper. The first few stars looked slightly deformed, but who can blame me? I was still new to this. It was a goal of mine to reach one thousand, and as childish as it seems, I wanted to make that wish.

At the end of our seventh grade year, I had a large jar filled with small white stars. I had the last few in my pocket. On my way home, I saw you leaving with some friends. For the first time in a long time, I remembered how lonely I was. A wave of sadness enveloped me in its cold embrace. My hand reached toward my pocket containing the last few stars.

At that very moment, I knew what I would wish for. Upon arriving at my house, I ran to my room and opened the jar. The white stars fell out of my palm and landed in the container with the rest. One thousand stars; one wish.

"I wish they will be my friend one day."