Missing Pages

Chapter 6: Back to School

"Are you sure you don't want to stay at home? You can have another off day if you'd like," asked my mother.

"I'm positive,"I answered back, "Bye mom, dad."

That's all she's been asking me since our meeting with Charles. I could see why she'd want to keep me at home-- after all, I had just lost someone very close to me, but I needed to get back into my routine. It was now or never. If I didn't make myself go to school today, I would surely have to be home schooled.

I had thought that I would have a stress/worry free school day, but it was completely the opposite. I had received so many sympathy cards that they wouldn't fit into my folder. It seemed as if the whole world knew of my grandmother's death, and was grieving for me. I don't remember telling anyone except for my small circle of close friends, but news spreads like wildfire when you're "popular".

Popular. I hated that word so much... when it is used in the context of most adolescent people. It is the number one cause of teenagers being bullied, and having low self-esteem. I know that everyone should have confidence and feel good about themselves, but when someone brags about being popular, that's stooping to a whole other level. With that being said, people are being judged based on their clothes, looks, popularity etc., rather than their good qualities. I mean, what's the significance of popularity? It's just an unimportant little detail in life. There's a difference between being confident and being conceited.

I hated being called popular because I'm really not. I am human just like everyone else, and I don't think higher of myself just because the majority of the school is a friend of mine.

It was the end of the day, and I was trying to collect my things quickly, as I did not want to be bombarded with a huge crowd of people.

I was just about to enter the last digit to my combination on my locker when I was stopped by none other than Nina. Why would she choose a time like this to start a conversation?!

"Hey hun!! I'm so sorry about your loss! I hope you feel better soon!!" she stated, putting a lot more emphasis o the word 'so' than was necessary.

"Thank you, but-"

Nina's phone was blasting out the horrifyingly annoying song of some rock group, and she answered it. I only heard her half of the conversation. I should've been packing up to leave, but I could not wipe the look of astonishment off of my face.

I started to speak when she had ended the call, "Thanks-"

"Oopsie! Sorry for being a bit preoccupied, hun, but I have to go!! Ta ta!" she said- no, shouted at me, leaving traces of her DNA on my face. I wiped my face off with the sleeve of my sweater, and roughly opened the door to my locker. I still hadn't been able to process what had just happened in my mind, but my main goal as of now was to make it home safely.

A small slip of paper gently floated out of my locker, and onto the top of one of my shoes...