Behind the Clouds

Chapter 1

10/20/14

“Ellie!! Come down now! You’re gonna be late!!”

“I’m coming!”

Four years of attempting to be normal. I do have friends and a family and yes, of course I have smiled and laughed and had fun. The answer to your silent question is: No it was not real. I’ve tried my hardest to actually feel like it could’ve been genuine, but then I would be telling myself a big fat lie. I put on the small smiles and laugh when appropriate and everyone thinks I’m okay when really I feel like there’s a demon constantly following me around. So I put on a mask. I put on the mask to hide the fact of how scared I am, how angry, and how sad I am because of it. Seems to have held up pretty well since none of my friends have ever noticed how damaged I am inside. Of course they’re good friends and everything, but I’m just too good at faking it.

The less I cared about things the less I hurt. It’s a screwed up philosophy, but I was doing anything I could to survive. Thankfully, at home I don’t need the mask. My mom already knows how broken I am anyways. I mean how could she not? She was there when I decided that happiness was overrated.

I start my walk down the stairs because we all know that there’s nowhere else to go but down in my black converse, plain denim shorts, tank top, and black muscle tee for a two minute breakfast and where my mom is rushing to find her keys.

“Ellie have you seen my keys?” My mom says.

“I know where they are mom. Wait, never mind,” I responded uncaringly.

“You’re so helpful you know that?”

“Yup.” Funny enough her keys were hanging out of her pocket right after I said that. “Mom you may wanna just…you know shake your hips three times and maybe they’ll appear.” I really hoped that she understood my Wizard of Oz reference or this would end up being really sad.

“What in the world are you talking about?” She says exasperatedly.

“Mom just do it.” And wait. There’s the glare. Then my stoic facial expression and……she shakes her hips! The keys jingle from her pocket. Mama found the keys. “Told ya.”

“You know you totally make me feel so young with your movie references from like the 1900s.” Her sarcasm wasn’t that hard to hear.

“Hey, I was scared you weren’t gonna get it at all.”

“All right Smart Aleck. Let’s leave. You're late again.”

Finally, after being almost ten minutes late, we get in the car to drive to school, but really what’s the point if I’m already late?

 Almost every day it’s a silent ride in the car with my mom. Some days, like today, my mom will ask the obvious questions like “How’s school goin’? Getting good grades, having fun with your friends, meet any cute boys?”

And I say, “Fine, A’s and B’s, yeah, and none that have the faintest interest in talking to me since I’d rather not talk to them either.”

She stays silent for a little while and right before we pull in she says, “Ok sweetie. Have a good day today.”

“I’ll try to fake it,” I say as I walk out of the car.

Somehow I ended up at one of the preppiest schools in Santa Monica, CA, Thomas Purdue University High School. I probably got in because of my grades or maybe my mom negotiated something with principal. She is a lawyer, so she must’ve made a good case if I got in. If anything she wanted me to come here just to boost my self-esteem. Or maybe to distract me with strict teachers and doubled school work, but little did she know that preppiest school equals preppiest and snobbiest students. I don’t exactly fit in that category.