Cranberry Juice

Past Lives

"Why do you never talk, ninya?" A girl with tight red pigtails snickers aloud along with the rest of the classroom. The teacher, Ms.williams, was currently reading an excerpt from the book, "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" to the class. I absolutely loved the book but the teacher was apparently oblivious to the scene in the back of the classroom.

I bring my small and bony knees tightly to my chest and hid my now beet red face. As usual, I was the target. I was like a sheep in a group of wolves.

"I think she's slow guys." A brown haired boy named Chris laughed loudly poking a pencil at my side. I cringed as the object poked into my skin probably causing a small bruise.

"My...my name...my name is Nina, not Ninya and...I'm n-not slow." I manage out trying to stand my already shaky ground with the tears brimming in my eyes. I cried easily, I couldn't help it.

I felt my chest tighten as tears slowly fell. They quickly rolled down my cheek, staining my T-shirt.

Nobody saw that I was crying but I'm pretty sure everyone knew.

"Crybaby." Another girl whisper yells to everyone.

They knew.

"Nina stop causing a scene." Mrs. Williams says in disappointment and annoyances causing a dead silence to oversweep the entire third-grade classroom. I lifted my head slowly to protest but no words came out.

Now everyone's eyes were staring at me. Their stares felt like little needle pricks all over my skin. More tears rained down my cheeks as class gradually resumed.

-

That was years ago. Nobody ever questions me anymore. I expected them to at first, now I don't. I don't talk to anyone and nobody talks to me. I didn't mind it.

-

"Jonina, I haven't heard you talk today. What is the solution to the answer to problem five."

Jonina, I absolutely despise my full name. My nickname could've been Jo but I don't think it fits me.

Then again, I barely know who I am.

I don't look like a Jo and I like Nina better. Nobody knew my full name except for teachers and obviously my mother. Honestly, at times I think she doesn't even know.

I lift my head off my desk from the very back of the large classroom. I didn't want to answer, I knew I'd fuck it up.

"Jonina, I know you know the answer." My teacher urges.

You don't know what I know, lady.

"14x...wait...17x plus 16," I finally answer surprising everyone, I can't believe I actually answered.

"She talks," Chris yelled smartly from across the classroom.

Same Chris same shit.

Luckily I was saved by the bell, I quickly gathered my stuff and head out of the classroom.

Sadly escaping the classroom didn't do much. The hallway was crowded with teenagers that either cared too much about themselves or too much about other people. The worst worried about both.

I don't know how to classify myself. I really didn't care too much about myself. I don't think I'm suicidal or depressed, but I just didn't have any priorities in life. It's almost been four years of high school and it all has gone by in a second.

Many girls wanted to be prom queen, guys wanted to be the all American dreams, we had the groups whose priority was being different. No matter how dumb, they all had something to look forward to.