Of Tragedy, Trauma, and Transgender

Chapter 2: A Lonely Day (Tuesday)

That's all I could describe it as, at least.

I walked into school by myself, and then went to the Gater fan's office, but the door was open and the room was empty.

I sighed and walked to the old gym, where everyone in the school was, but I'd be alone.

Don't worry, I have other friends! It's just kind of awkward when all of them were mutual ones of Abby.

I sat a little bit away from them, to feel more comfortable.

Psh, not like there was anything to talk about in that situation.

Moving on, a few minutes later, I got off my butt and went to the teacher that was supervising the seventh-grade bleachers.

I was going to ask about the counselor, but this is what happened:

I walked up to the dirty-blonde-haired lady, who was talking and laughing with some of the girls in the front row.

So I just awkwardly stood there for a moment, waiting for her to finish.

She turned towards me, and now that I had her attention, I said, "Can I got to the counselor's-"

She interrupted me, "I got the email, but I had to look after the bleachers, so I wasn't in my office today."

I paused, and it registered. Just my luck! It was actually the counselor! :D

I sighed in relief, and the first bell rang. We stayed.

She continued, "So what's up? What's going on that you need to talk about?"

I stuttered slightly, as I was rarely a nervous wreck, "Uh actually, actually a lot."

It was hard to describe my problem as well, so we would need more time.

It took a little weight off of my shoulders.

After that, we said our goodbyes and I headed to math class.

As the title of the entry implies, this day was very lonely.

In Technical Career Exploration, where it was free-reign seating and we could do whatever we wanted during small lectures as long as we didn't disrupt class, she sat as far away from me as possible.

It hurt, just a little.

As I walked down that hallway to lunch, it's like I was getting trauma hallucinations.

I kept getting small flashes back and forth of the present and what had happened the day before.

I felt something dark in the pit of my stomach, so I hunched down and weakly walked through the hallway.

My ELA teacher, Mr. Mclone, was walking down the hallway, as usual, being obnoxious and funny.

I'd say he's cute but like in the way a squishy toddler is. He's wacky.

Today, he was saying, "I'M DOING WELL TOO, HOW ARE YOU?"

To some kids already down the hallway, closer to him.

Outloud, I said, "I feel sick."

It wasn't too audible, of course.

The reason I had felt sick seeing him being funny was that even though it made me smile, expressing emotion at all was making my head hurt.

But mainly because the first time I had seen him do that, Abby had been telling me about it.

Then we laughed together about it as he did it.

I realized that it hurt to laugh with friends now. So I didn't.

During lunch, all of my assigned tablemates were complaining about being hungry, but I wasn't hungry at all for a few minutes.

That's when I decidedly stopped caring about the friendship for a bit because my tablemates are nice to me.