I went to bed that night at 4:00. I spent my time writing down different poems for the poetry slam. I had written exactly 37. Of course, I can't read all of them at the poetry slam. I had written how I had felt after I had received the pants. I just couldn't stop writing. But, finally, I realized that I was going a bit overboard, so I stopped.
I woke at up at 6:30, actually excited to go to school. I had finished my morning routine, and waited for the bus to arrive. In case you were wondering, no, I did not wear the pants. They are far too superior to any being; therefore it would only make sense that I don't wear them. The bus had arrived. I walked onto the bus, and I was immediately filled with despair. Everyone was either one their phone, or in the middle of an intense make out session with their significant other. But, then, I pulled the pants out from my tan tote bag. I had buried my face into them, and smelled them, and inhaled their scent: It smelled like dust, but it was the dust of hope! When I looked up, I saw a few of my classmates giving me the "WTF" stare. This is it, I told myself. This is your chance to change their lives! At first, I was a bit hesitant, but, after looking at the pants, I realized that it was now or never. I began to speak:
"Students of Braunstone High School! I have been watching you all from afar these past few weeks. And, from what I have witnessed, you have all been acting carelessly with your lives! You are all thinking, but are you really thinking? I know that you all have the potential to do something grand with your lives! However, you have all become the prisoners of idle hands. You put your energy into trying to take a picture under the right lighting, instead of trying to be the light of someone else's life! You are wasting your energy into trying to gain acceptance by those who you deem greater than others, and you're only trying to make certain individuals happy, rather than trying to make all individuals happy! You've even forgotten to make the most important person in your life happy…yourself."
My speech had gained the attention of everyone. People had looked up from their phones. Certain people stopped with their unnecessary acts of affection. And people had even stopped their morning gossip sessions. And you know what happened? I had gotten some emotion out of them. I even saw people begin to cry. Amelia Rendon, the most terrifying junior in our school, had gotten out of her seat, and walked over to me.
She was short, but powerful. She was one of the thickest girls I knew. She somehow managed to remain tan throughout the seasons. And she was considered the trendsetter of the school; her style was always very risqué. But what separated her from the others was her face. She was beautiful. She had an oval-shaped face, with a pointed nose, full lips, and long, platinum-blonde hair. But, her most striking feature was her eyebrows. They, in contrast to her hair, were full and blackish-brown, and they were always on point. She had what everyone called "eyebrow goals."
She was super popular; I thought she was going to use her good looks to take me down. But, then, something amazing happened. She took ahold of my hand, and began to cry. She just began to sob, and sob, and sob. Through her rather obnoxious sobs, she began to speak to me. "Thank…you…for so long, I've been holding back who I really am. I have let my insanely good looks, my super smarts, and my sensational amount of popularity cover up the fact that…I'm not who you think I am." She began to sob. One girl had called out, "Then who are you?" Amelia had looked out to the crowd. Once she had settled down, she took a napkin out of her pocket. She raised it to her face, and began wiping it around her forehead. When she raised it away from her face, everyone was in shock of what they saw; her eyebrows were close to gone. It turns out, when she didn't paint them on, they were these thin, blonde, shriveled up pieces of hair. Everyone was screaming. People were really sobbing now. This chaos ensued all the way to the school.
When I got off the bus, I had felt someone grab my hand. It was Amelia. "Isabelle…you are one of the most inspirational people I know. Thank you." She then walked away.
"Don't thank me," I said to myself. "Thank the pants."