Today's the first day of senior year.
I don't know how I feel about that. But, who cares? High school really doesn't matter in the long run. But, please study kids! :)
. . .
My backpack slings off my shoulders, blissfully empty.
Weightless and free, something I'll never be.
By the end of the year, I'll be well acquainted with hunched backs and shoulder pains bringing me down, down, down.
I'm walking when I catch up with a few of my friends. I haven't talked to them all summer.
"Hey," I say.
"Jyia!!!"
They go to hug me but I'm kind of awkward about it.
Why am I? I mean it's not like I hate hugs. It's just I'm scared. If I show them my attraction to hugs, I'll just be weaker. Easier to break. Keep your walls high, rule number one.
Or maybe I'm just overdramatic?
"Haha, you really hate hugs," they laugh. Um, I don't know if I do.
"So, like, what the fuck. How could she do that?!" one of them exclaims animatedly.
Flora, my other friend, mock clears her throat and announces,
"Guys, no swearing, Jyia's here. You're going to corrupt her innocent mind," they chuckle.
Innocent?
Just because I don't swear out loud in front of them, or talk about certain topics, doesn't mean I'm some sweet candy apple who hasn't rotted a bit. Because trust me. I've been through things, we all have been through things.
. . .
"What do you see in store for your future?" the principal rhetorically asks.
We're having an assembly. The projected slide is covered with one word, "Future".
My parents want me to be a doctor or work in a bank. But, I want to do something... different. Feed my restless creative energy my own way.
Move away. Live alone. And have fun.
Life and the future aren't just about jobs and careers. There is so much more to life.
But, everybody wants a little money in their pockets, until that whisper of a craving turns into full-on greedy hunger. I want to be truly happy.
Now. I wonder how that'd feel like?
. . .
I scan the room of bobbing heads. Everyone seems to be immersed in their own minds. Replaying the path they laid out and cemented, the trail to their 'success'.
But, one head is drifting away from the crowd, and living in the moment.
Breathing in the present.
Jack.
Our eyes have locked, in a trance. I refuse to be the first to look away.
He signals a finger in my direction. What?
He grabs a pencil and starts scrawling something on a sticky note. Expertly, Jack folds it like origami and I've become the target of a paper airplane.
YOU ARE READING
I D K
Teen FictionGrowing up in a broken family, love is a foreign language to Jyia's tongue. Keeping her distance and glaring at others are her weapons. She tries to reinforce the walls she's built up. But, they start to crack and crumble when she's stuck in the mi...
