Prompt: Carson Phillips -"What grade do we stop believing in ourselves? What grade do we stop believing period." - 'Struck By Lighting'
"I guess I'm just not that confident,"* I told Mercedes, fighting bac the tears. Not wanting to continue the conversation, I walked away.
Admitting the truth to her, my best friend, was hard enough. At times, I didn't want to admit the truth to myself because I didn't want to admit that I was any different from my classmates. Like any other teenager I wanted to belong. To fit it. To not have to walk down the hallways wondering from what direction the next insult would come from or which jock would be the next one to shove me into a locker.
It wasn't always like this. Granted I had always been one to prefer the company of the girls over the guys, as the girls weren't as rough and tumble in their play, but there was a time when I wasn't a complete outcast. When I would be asked to participate in a game of freeze tag on the playground or to join a group of guys riding their bikes to the creek. Somewhere along the line, though I couldn't pinpoint exactly when it started happening, the other boys started pushing me away from their group. We all started to realize that I wasn't like them and because of that they would rather ridicule me than talk to me.
By seventh grade I had hated the idea of going to school, but I went. I was sure my father would never understand the situation. Despite my best efforts, I've always been afraid that I'm a disappointment to him. That I wasn't the son that he wanted.
Despite my conviction that this year was going to be different, that belief had changed on day one. Finn and his friends tossing me into the dumpster before the first bell had even rung had shown me that.
Getting through the school day was hard enough as it was. Admitting to others what I had told Mercedes would only make that effort impossible. High school was a game of survival and I already struggled in it. Why shake the boat even further? Why tempt fate?
*Dialogue from Acafellas