You Saved Me Once

I Knew We Were Going To Be Best Friends

I was a freshman. We are supposed to be young, innocent, and youthful. I was none of those things, anymore. During the holiday break freshmen year, I did something. It's another secret. Because of that secret I'm now cold, blue, and sick.

It's been two months, since the funeral. I feel worse than before, everything sucks. I feel like I'm pushing myself too much. I was too sick that day, I should've stayed home.

Food is minimal now, it's been this way for a while. After the funeral, I could only eat one thing, pizza. I should've eaten more. My habit started to make me look different. I wore heavy clothes now, warm clothes. Many layers.

I force myself to move, if I stayed still too long the secrets would flutter inside. I tried to make it through the day, gym was the first class.

Everyone just got back from winter break. Everyone is sluggish, wet, and cold. Our gym shoes are pressed with wet snow, we dry them on the gym mats, we fail. Our slippery sneakers squeak against the polished gym floor. Everything smelt cold, and wet.

I came in late. I was crying in the bathroom.

Class has already started, but it felt like it stopped once I walked in.

The volume lowered, the balls stopped bouncing, the sneaker squeaks, reduced. Everything was low, as if they were watching me. They were. I could hear them whispering.

No matter how hard I avoided attention, even though I needed it. I needed so much attention, but I never asked for it, yet it always found me. Everyone noticed my habit, everyone knew about the Richard's. Everyone knew about the Bartley's.

I try to hide the care I felt. I tried to mute the whispers, the talk. I didn't want to cry again.

My wet sneakers squeak each time I walk. They are dripping with the melted snow water I failed to dry on the mats.

The volume increases again. Everyone starts taking laps around the gym.

I join in, even though my fluttering stomach is pulsing. It's too warm. I keep swallowing the saliva that keeps coming up. I lick my teeth, as my heart races. I should stop running, but I don't.

That's the last thing I remember.

I fainted in gym class freshmen year. Most thought I was acting out, because of the death in my family. Most thought it was for attention. I nod to the lies, and the rumors, even though they weren't true. It's better than the truth.

The truth is another secret.

~~~~~

I slam my locker. The memories make me feel sick again.

I stare at my boots, they squeak against the wet floor.

I walk the halls feeling paranoid. Sometimes a certain smell, or sound can take me back to freshmen year.

High school just isn't for me.

Everything in class is a blur, except photography. It's my red room for an hour. No teacher, no classmates in photography. Just a dim, red buzzing light, my camera, my photos, and my thoughts.

The red room makes me feel nostalgic, I think about the past too much in here, I cry a lot. That's what I do today.

The bell ringing was enough to break me from my crying spell. School was over for seniors.

I reach my locker before Rochelle calls my name. I pretend to ignore her. I hide my head in my locker, looking for tissue to wipe my salty face.

She's not alone. Jeff's with her.