Braided

Third day of Highschool

Dear Diary,

Today I had to muster all of my courage to go to school. I tried to fix my short blonde hair but the cut job I did on it was so bad there was no going back... It has grown out a little bit from the summer just enough to put it back into a small ponytail. It looks kind of stupid I'm not going to lie but how I look is the last thing on my mind. I have worn the same baggy sweatshirt for the past three days because it is big enough to hide my figure from his glaring eyes.
He finally noticed me today and I felt like all the contents of the gross school breakfast was going to spew on to the floor. At first, he looked a little shocked to see me but then shot me a quick smile. Was he trying to be nice to me? After everything, why would he be nice to me? After attendance, I made a straight line to the bathroom. I don't think I could go back there.
Now that I know he knows I am there he can always look and see me. I am scared of what his thoughts are when he sees me. I don't even want to know. Does he remember what happened? Or am I just one of many girls he has admired before. I hope it was just me and only me.
The rest of the day I glide swiftly through the hallways fearing I will bump into him the only comfort I have is knowing that he isn't in my classes because I'm a freshman. I am not going to lie, I enjoy my classes very much. My favorite is dance, all the freshmen are placed into an art course that they pick at the end of their 8th-grade year. The guys in the class are mostly the freshman football team because their coach decided it would be a good idea for them to work on their agility. They goof off and make the best of it and it is entertainment for the short 45 class period. Shawna is in my dance class too. She is really nice and tries to get me to talk, I usually respond with a nod or a yes, or a no. I have never met someone so persistent in trying to get me to be her friend. After a certain point while I was at camp I had no one. She keeps inviting me to come to her Christain club that she is the president of in the mornings. I don't know. I am still a little hesitant to go but when she talks about how it will be a great opportunity to make friends. I simply nod my head in agreement.
I am sorry I don't write in your diary and to be honest, I only do it because my therapist makes me. When I became pretty much mute my parents forced me to go see her. Her room is decorated with bright colors and even the couch colors are bright. It hurts my eyes. The only thing brighter than how she is dressed is her overwhelming personality. It stresses me out and I don't really talk much. How could someone be so cheery? She grins from ear to ear with a big fake-looking smile. I mostly stare at her teeth. My parents get upset when they tell them I have made little progress. Why do they even care? They never bothered to ask me why I stopped talking. All they do is talk at me and I nod back. Hopefully I will learn to talk again and express myself. I just don't think I am really at that point yet. So my therapist gave me this diary. You should feel blessed, you're the only one I talk to.