ranty bois

12th March 2020

Uh yo... Hi there. Currently my head feels a little fuzzy and sore because of looking at the digital world and it isn't too great but now of all times I decide to write a story.

So. The day school ended was a Thursday and it wasn't the best day for me. I can't even call it a school day really. I was only in for two classes and this story is sorta explaining why and a few other thoughts and feelings.

That morning I got out of my mams car, outside my school and my water bottle slipped out of my bag and smashed. It wasn't even mine, it was my mums. Mine broke the day before. That was before half 8 and my day was shit. Then I walked in and bought a box of water from the canteen because we don't have bottles anymore. That's fine. Only 300mls tho and I went through it pretty quickly. I stood outside my religion room and I think I was reading? Or just keeping to myself, keeping quiet. People started filing around the room and the people I talk to In that class didn't even look up to say hi. Hi guys. Fuckers. Broken bottle and now no one is talking to me? It wasn't even 9am yet. After that we had one class with one of our religion teachers and then went up to the computer room with the other. We were called down for an Iceland meeting.

Myself and many other students were supposed to be going on a 5 day trip to Iceland with a some teachers because my school offers that. I finished paying the €1,319 over christmas. We were meant to be there from the 9th-13th of April. For some reason I had never thought we would be going. I don't get excited about somthing unless I'm staring it in the face really. Not until I'm certain it will happen. I was right not to be excited about this. A few days before we had been told to pack for 2 weeks. incase we had to quarantine over there. We were told teachers couldn't go anymore. Only parents because staff were needed to teach exam year students. Yay. I'd love to have my parents with me in a foreign country (please note the sarcasm)

We were given our schedules. There was a 4 person bedroom available. I had 4 best friends. They ran to eachother, so excited to be able to share a room together that not one of them looked at me. They started talking and planning. Of course. Why shouldn't they? They are less than a month away from going on a trip and now they are told they can all share a room instead of it only being 2 person rooms. I was going to be left out anyways. I was fine with that. I don't really trust these People. I can't be myself while I'm around them. I act. A lovely little performance of me being okay when I'm really not.

So, as other people got excited to be able to share a room with more friends. I sat down on a table and tried to steady my breathing. I didn't want to cry or to show I was weak. Recently that's all I seemed to do though. Some said they would share with me. People I knew slightly, trying to make room for the new adjustments. I said no, I'm okay. I just wanted to run away. yell, scream, cry. The amazing teacher in charge said he would try find a 1 person room for me. I managed a shaky nod.

He dismissed us. People I knew - two of those best friends - were behind me, walking back upstairs to class. I ran into the bathroom and did the above. Screamed, yelled and cried so much I couldn't breathe. This is my diary. It isn't even 10am yet in this entery and the pain I felt then is still here. Right under my 5th rib and crawling its way up my throat. My head is still fuzzy. When I walked back into class ten minutes later, no one even looked at me. I was a ghost. I saw those two friends huddled infront of a computer and looking up the hotel. Looking at the schedule and getting more engrossed in what they were doing. I sat down beside them, a few feet away, I packed up my things, made myself small and waited for the bell to ring. Again they didn't even look up. I ran out of that classroom as soon as the bell rang.

I got to Spanish. 3rd class of the day. My eyes were still red and I sat at the back with my head down on the desk. My teacher told me I had to sit up, we were doing a test. I said I didn't feel well. "Can I fill my water? Go to the bathroom?" Yes, yes go ahead. I went down and filled my water. The wind helped my face a little. I was burning up. I drank the water and filled my box again and again. I then walked into the bathroom, the one with signal. And I rang my mum. I had cracked. I told her "somthing happened. I.. I really don't feel good. Can I please sign out? I can't be here anymore" that was the first and last time I ever asked to go home like that. I didn't like that I was doing it but I was sobbing like mad. I felt so sick and isolated. People I knew. People I trusted just ran away. Excluded me again and again and again. Each time is like a blow to the stomach. Like getting a sucker punch and smacked between the eyes. I have tried.. time and time again to put people's actions behind them and to accept what they've done to me but it's really hard when they don't seem to understand that their actions had horrible consequences that have affected me so badly. Recently that has overtaken me again. That sort of pain and anger against people who I've forgiven for things they don't realise and I hate wallowing in it. DCU was a year ago? A few days more? Everyone had their own plan that didn't include me. My school took a trip to a local college open day. It was amazing. I looked at the psychology course. The physical education and biology course and stem research. It was all fascinating. They also have a rock climbing area in their campus gym and I am all for that.

Yet still. No plan to include me there. I stepped off the bus and everybody went and did their own thing. I sat in classes surrounded by people I didn't know. One I didn't know yet. He would be kind to me. I would love him for a summer then leave him for another but that's not important right now. I side tracked. I was meant to be telling you about one day. Not all my problems. That's another time. It was half 10 at that stage. My mam had come to the school and the secretary signed me out, I could go home now. Little did I know that was my last Spanish class. I thought id be back in time for business after lunch. And in reality I was. I was outside the classroom with my bag on my back but at that stage there was mud on my trousers and I hadn't signed back in. I wasn't going into class.

When I got home I ate. I think I cried a little. I watched some telly. I relaxed and let my mind mellow out. The day before I had signed in late after being at a Halsey concert the night before it and that made me sign out of school that Tuesday before the day even began. I hadn't really had a last week of school. My day was calm for a little while. Then the Taoiseach, my head of government, made an announcement. All schools were to close, effective immediately. They would remain open for students to collect their books but classes were to terminate until after Easter at the earliest. There was an invader in the country. A silent assassin who was taking down the sick and vulnerable. I sighed, I knew I had to go back in for my last three classes. Business, Irish, maths. Easy. I could survive 2 hours of work.

Then my mum and sister went out. I had to walk to school. It's not a far walk. I could run it in three minutes if I tried. But between that is my estate, a very large green and a shit tone of wind that was blowing me every way it could. I don't weigh too much, It was easy to lose my footing. That's how I got the mud stain on my trousers.

I rang my mam laughing. Saying March just isn't my month and this really isn't my day. I still walked into the school grounds, thinking I was going to sign in and get into class. I saw my Spanish teacher too, she had everything she owned in her hands. Hopefully to get home before the traffic. She had finished classes for the day. I went in and did the same. I did look into my business class. It's right beside my locker. I opened it. 16.30.8. I cleared out everything and what didnt fit into my bag I carried in my hands, including a flimsy English copy. I waited for my mum outside the grounds. My phone wasn't working right. I couldn't call her. She was at the entrance on the other side of she school. I didn't know that. As I waited the wind was strong. My English copy - that flimsy one? Blew across the street. A 200m long road and 6 pages of notes. I'll never know what was on the other 2. I laughed to myself. I still thought I could make the last two classes. I put my books in the car and my mam drove home, me in the back seat. I never wanted to go back to that school again. I had too many bad memories in those hallways.

By then it was 2pm and I was already having a pretty bad day. You can see why I'd be a tad bothered by the world after giving me that hand of cards. I decided not to trust those people ever again that day. My heart couldn't take it. They had hurt me too many times and most I honestly believe to be deliberate. It's been a good long time since the worst 6 hours of my life. But it's still the worst. I won't post often. I will post fragments. I like describing, talking. Getting words onto a page and in an order. I like love and trust and tranquility. I also like barbeque. I'm gonna have some.

Till next time,
Melissa