People never say what they mean. Like Grandparents for example. Let's say your grandmother buys you a hideous sweater you will never wear in your entire life. When she says,
"If you don't like it you can always return it." she really means,
"You better be wearing' that thing next time I see you."
And sometimes, your parents might say,
"I'm going to the grocery store, do you want to come?"
What they really mean is, "You're going to the grocery store with me whether you like it or not."
It's peer pressure. I suppose they want to sound nice, but we're not stupid. We know what they really mean.
At least, most of us do. I've had plenty of experience with people that don't say what they mean. After it happened, my friends told me it was ok. That they forgave me.
It wasn't.
They didn't.
They didn't know.
They never would. I'm sure as hell not going tell them.
So that was how, on my first day of high school, I ended up at the bus stop alone, in an itchy long-sleeved, incredibly warm, maroon sweater, with no friends and a migraine. I could already tell how well this year was going to be.
The bus pulled up, but I just stood there.
"Are you going to get on?" The bus driver asked me, in a monotone voice, like he absolutely hated his job and just wanted to get it over with. He probably did.
I got on the bus like he asked.
I went to the very back of the bus. It seemed like it went on forever. I sat down at the end of the continuous yellow not the last seat, though, the one in front of it. When you sit in the last seat, you stick out more, and that was exactly what I was trying not to do.
I stared out the window and tried not to do it. I didn't want to. It hurt too much.
But no matter how much I tried not to, I did.
I remembered.
I always remembered. It won't stay out of my mind, it was always there, jumping around inside my head, refusing to leave me alone.
I was in a car.
I was in Sebastian's car.
We were speeding, going almost 20 miles over the speed limit.
We were going to a party, and I was in the passenger's seat.
Izzy, Alec, and Simon were squeezed into the back like a bunch of sardines.
Ever since Izzy, Alec and Jace moved next door, I had plenty of friends.
But not because of them.
Because of Izzy.
She was Rich and Popular. Become friends with her and Alec you get Instant popularity.
I was one of the most popular girls in school, but it was only for two months.
That was because of me.
Because of him.
Because of them.
Alec leaned out the window of Sebastians's car and laughed.
Izzy leaned out the window too and screamed at the top of her lungs.
I leaned out the window, but I did nothing.
I just let the wind blow through my hair.
I knew it was messing it up, but I didn't care. I was so carefree at the moment. I didn't have a clue what was going to happen.
"Clary?" Simon asked me, in an uncomfortable tone of voice.
"Are you gonna stay out there in lala land forever, or are you coming back to earth?"
I pulled my head back into the car and leaned over the console. I got right in his face, smiled, and said,
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to trespass."
"Hi! I'm Aline. I'm new here." An overly enthusiastic girl with Blonde hair – that was definitely not her natural hair color- said, interrupting my thoughts. I was grateful in a way, but I also wished that she hadn't said anything. That way I could just stay on the bus, lost in my mind, completely disconnected from the rest of the world.
I only nodded at her, in greeting. She looked uncomfortable, sort of embarrassed. After a minute or two, I decided to say something to her.
"Clary." I told her. She instantly launched into a long story that I didn't care one bit about.
"Wow. What a cool name. I once had a friend named Desdemona back in Chicago. Did you know they don't call it the windy city because of the weather? Supposedly it's because of the politicians. I guess it's because they had a tendency to talk on and on and on…"
Kinda makes this the windy school bus.
She kept going on and on about some cousin she had named Lattice, and I nodded, pretending I was listening. I really didn't care. I knew she was probably the only person, besides my teachers that would talk to me today but I didn't care. I didn't want to be here, and as long as I was lost in my head, unaware of everything going on around me, I would be ok.
After the fake blonde complimented me on my ugly skirt, I mumbled,
"Nice shoes."
They weren't nice.
They were hideous.
They were floral, and the colors of a rotten pumpkin and some dead rose petals. My great-grandmother is constantly wearing those colors. They make her look like she's already dead.
"Thanks! I have them in six other colors, Mayflower blue, Bonjour Beige..."
Shoe girl could probably go on for hours about her pumpkin shoes, and I really didn't care about anything she was saying.
I couldn't care less about shoes.
Or clothes.
I didn't care about that kind of stuff anymore.
It may seem strange, considering, I'm a girl, and that's pretty much against the law, but I just lost interest in everything after it happened.
While Alice or whatever her name was went on and on and on about her Sunshine Yellow flip-flops, I tried to think of something else. But instead, my mind went straight to my memories. It was like my brain was stuck on this channel, and every time I'd turn it on, that's what it would show.
I was always remembering.
Out of order.
This one was towards the end.
No.
Not the end.
Never the end.
There is no end.
No beginning either.
No middle.
Only the whole thing.
This was one of the worst memories.
One of the sounds.
I was making the sounds.
Yelling. I was Yelling.
No.
Screaming I was screaming.
Yet nobody heard me.
Only him.
Only me.
"No!" I screamed.
"Stop!" I screamed.
Nobody heard me. It was a muffled noise; a sound somebody would assume was an animal.
There was an end I guess.
The end of my life.
The real end.
The important end.
I wish my mind had a mute button.
"Oh my gosh! We're here!" Aline squealed.
I've never known why people got that excited about the first day of school.
I never get excited about anything.
I used to get excited. I used to get excited about almost everything. Even School, sometimes.
Sleepovers.
Shopping.
Dances.
Clubbing.
Knowing how many friends I'd have if they knew. It was a little smile in the back of my head that nobody could see.
If they only knew who I was.
Who I used to be.
I wasn't me anymore.
She died with my innocence.
With my mind.
With my happiness.
With my voice.
With my virginity.
