With a simple blurry of complicated emotions, I wonder about her. I
worry about her. I admit it. Long ago, I would've asked her if she was
okay. But I can't now. There's no chance.
Sometimes, walking in the hallways, I see a swish of fake red hair and there's a strange feeling blooming in the pit of my stomach. It's like some exotic flower that I can't help but smile at. It's too different to fit in here, but I secretly I can love it. Sometimes I think I am that flower.
How is it that I feel like I'm suppose to hold her hand, when its not allowed? How can something feel so right and be so wrong at the same time?
She's saved my life. I've spent hours on her bedroom floor, just talking. Wondering about life, death, and love. Love most of all. I think it's a silly little girl thing that all silly little girls talk about. But with her, it was different.
I feel my soul quiver whenever I see her. She's horrible to me. A wonderful horrible. I get no better pleasure from anything else but hearing her snap a witty come back at me.
Why do I want to kill her? Why do I want to kill myself? Why can't we just die together in each other's arms?
It wouldn't be right. I have to do the right thing. I can't live a lie like that.
But I'm already living a lie. No one would understand. I don't even understand. I'm just a freak. There must be a big sign, right? Sometimes I hope there is, so everyone will know. I just want to call it from the mountain tops so all can hear. But then I want to hide. I just want to hide in a hole until it all fades away. But it will never fade away. I hope it will, but I know it won't.
"Sharon," Maria says, irritated, "Aren't you LISTENING to me?" I just look at her blankly. She sighs and drums her fingers impatiently. I ignore her (with a twinge of guilt) and look over at the 'popular' table. She sits there, laughing at someone's outfit. I want to be there with her, but I just want silence. I just want to see her, real and bare. Without her layers of make up or her designer sweaters. Just Nina.
But then I don't! I never want to see her again! I'm revolted by the mere mention of her name. Aren't I?
She gets up and walks. I can't help but get up too.
"Where are you going?," Maria questions. I feel like she's poking me with a thousand knives with her ridiculous question.
"Uh, bathroom," I state nervously, rushing after Nina. Maria must know by now. She just has to. I follow Nina, coincidently, into the bathroom. She steps into the stall, and I feel an instantly feel uneasy.
My heart jumps as a gagging sound arises from the stall. Oh, no.
Sometimes, walking in the hallways, I see a swish of fake red hair and there's a strange feeling blooming in the pit of my stomach. It's like some exotic flower that I can't help but smile at. It's too different to fit in here, but I secretly I can love it. Sometimes I think I am that flower.
How is it that I feel like I'm suppose to hold her hand, when its not allowed? How can something feel so right and be so wrong at the same time?
She's saved my life. I've spent hours on her bedroom floor, just talking. Wondering about life, death, and love. Love most of all. I think it's a silly little girl thing that all silly little girls talk about. But with her, it was different.
I feel my soul quiver whenever I see her. She's horrible to me. A wonderful horrible. I get no better pleasure from anything else but hearing her snap a witty come back at me.
Why do I want to kill her? Why do I want to kill myself? Why can't we just die together in each other's arms?
It wouldn't be right. I have to do the right thing. I can't live a lie like that.
But I'm already living a lie. No one would understand. I don't even understand. I'm just a freak. There must be a big sign, right? Sometimes I hope there is, so everyone will know. I just want to call it from the mountain tops so all can hear. But then I want to hide. I just want to hide in a hole until it all fades away. But it will never fade away. I hope it will, but I know it won't.
"Sharon," Maria says, irritated, "Aren't you LISTENING to me?" I just look at her blankly. She sighs and drums her fingers impatiently. I ignore her (with a twinge of guilt) and look over at the 'popular' table. She sits there, laughing at someone's outfit. I want to be there with her, but I just want silence. I just want to see her, real and bare. Without her layers of make up or her designer sweaters. Just Nina.
But then I don't! I never want to see her again! I'm revolted by the mere mention of her name. Aren't I?
She gets up and walks. I can't help but get up too.
"Where are you going?," Maria questions. I feel like she's poking me with a thousand knives with her ridiculous question.
"Uh, bathroom," I state nervously, rushing after Nina. Maria must know by now. She just has to. I follow Nina, coincidently, into the bathroom. She steps into the stall, and I feel an instantly feel uneasy.
My heart jumps as a gagging sound arises from the stall. Oh, no.