Do you have to make me feel like there's nothing left of me.
You can take everything I have
You can break everything I am
Like im made of glass
Like im made of paper.
Go on and try to tear me down
I will be rising from the ground, like a sky scraper.
skyscraper-Demi Lovato
i do not own high school musical, i do however own the plot and hopefully you enjoy it.
Meeting Gabriella
Waiting, waiting is all could do. It's all I had been doing for the last year of my life. Waiting for something good to happen. Waiting for ANYTHING to happen and now I was sat waiting on a plane. Waiting so I could finally go home and face up to the reality I had to leave behind. I hadn't seen anyone from Albuquerque in a year, I hadn't seen my friends, I hadn't seen my family hell I hadn't even seen my dog. That's what you get when you go to therapy, you have to block out your life and make yourself your only priority. You have to prioritize the most important things to you, and in my case it was my health. I had to try and manage my diet, gain the weight I had rapidly lost and try to pick myself up from my breakdown. It took longer than expected, I was meant to be there for 6 months but I was there for 12. I met the nicest people, and I even began to think I belonged there, like that was my home now, but like whatever I do in life it all come down, my happiness disappeared and my smile faded and I was forced to go back into the reality of my real life. I should be happy shouldn't I? That I get to go home, that im classed well enough to live in the society that slowly dragged me down the path to therapy? Its not that I don't want to. Im just scared. Scared of the events which will happen when I arrive, scared of things I have to face. In therapy I was in a bubble protected from harm, I was warm and I was safe. I still have the nightmares from the day kelsi died. The burning tower, her cold screams echoing. The guilt that it should have been me and not her? I don't see HOW I can do it. How I can go back there, how I can face up to all of my previous friends who probably blame me? That's not even half the story, how could I ever face up to troy? After all he is the one that found me. Your probably wondering how I ever got to therapy? It was never my choice ever. Troy Bolton, found me on the floor of my bathroom, blood leaking out my arm, they told me it was a "cry for help", but it wasn't it was the feeling of pure pleasure i got out of cutting myself that made me do it. Like all the guilt, all the sadness, the isolation just ran away like water in a river, peacefully, gentle, it was so easy. Death seemed so easy.
If im honest im not the same Gabriella. When I was 15, I had long brown hair with blonde highlights and a blunt full fringe, it was bright and it was different and it was "me". I cut it last year to just above my shoulders, died it a deep raven black and let my fringe grow out. I looked older and I defiantly felt it. Its grown now, almost the same length as it was before. But instead of straightening it I tend to keep it in its natural curls. Ive grown a few inches, gone up a few bra sizes, and I have some curves. I can happily say Im getting better, im not there yet. I still have this tight grip around me which pulls me into isolation at times. Like im alone, like I have no one. Im stronger now, im not little gabi anymore. Im not weak and promise myself I will never go down this road again. What would be the point? im actually living life now, im happy at times, I want to be alive. I don't feel the need to starve myself or cut myself to feel happy. I just feel content, with myself, with my life and I thought with my home. But the closer I get to it, the more I want to run away. Don't get me wrong I am so happy I can feel the warmth of my bedroom and to see the familiar sparkle in the eyes of my mum. Im ready to be woken up every morning by my dog licking me. But im not ready to see east high, to hear the whispers, the gossip and the rumors. Im not ready to see the old church which burnt down with kelsi and im not ready to see my "best friends".
Troy wrote to me when I was in therapy. I found it strange because me and troy never really got along, in fact apart from the fact I was tutoring him we never really spoke at all. Troy is the king of east high. Basket ball captain… gets all the the girls. Many would think he's a jerk, a party animal and a bad boy but from what ive seen hes not. Hes a sensitive, caring but secretive guy. He doesn't drink, he doesn't do drugs and hes dedicated to his basketball. As much as I don't want to face him, Im curious about him. Im curious of his intrest in ME! Don't get me wrong im not a geek, im actually quite popular, but were from different backgrounds, we have different intrests. It crossed my mind that he only wrote to me because he pitied me? I don't know why im so bothered? Surely I don't like him, sure he is gorgeous, bright blue eyes, tanned skin, messy dirty blonde hair but.. no I cant be. I guess I should get some sleep before I have to get off the plane and face the damage ive done.
Well i hope you enjoyed gabriellas story. im going to next introduce troy and his thoughts and feelings. maybe they have more in common than Gabriella thinks...
R&R
thank you:)