I'm in school, which seems to be my only escape from home, but I know better than to think that school is my safe haven. I'm only sixteen and I probably have more insight and experienced more pain and sorrow than any adult would ever know in a lifetime. I've accepted it, but I can't become immune to it.
I have one friend and he's my best friend, Christopher. Sometimes he helps me drown out the teacher's nonsense. Sometimes he'll be my shoulder to cry. He knows my situation at home, but he doesn't know all of it. I can never be completely honest with him. Even though I really want to, I couldn't bring myself to tell him who I really was, because I didn't want to lose him.
The school bell rang; I had to get home as quickly as possible. This wasn't my day, I heard my teacher call my name. "Jezebel, can you stay back for a minute?" Great, now I was going to have to run home.
"You seem very distracted, but your grades are exceptional. I want you to know that you could always confide in me." Here we go again every teacher has given me this speech hoping that I would open up.
Trust me they didn't want me to let down my protective barriers. She continued with her speech, "You can tell me anything, Okay? I am your teacher and Guidance Counselor." I was prepared to give my signature teenager I-don't-care response, but she continued.
I glanced at my watch and I was going to be late and that was not an option. "Well, I'm one of the trusted adults we have at the school, you can always-" I interrupted with a quick remark, "I'm fine, Mrs. Jones, I really have to go."
I ran into the hallway as fast as I could. This really was soon becoming the most wretched day. As I was running I tripped and fell and all the contents of my book bag spilled out. I bent down and picked up every piece of paper, and writing utensil. There was no possible way I could get home on time.
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