I glare down at my schedule. It includes seven classes, three of which are advanced. I stride towards the first, following the signs protruding from the ceilings. Outside the long panel of windows, the amber sun is just beginning to present itself. 7:25 A.M is the time that my phone reads back to me. The forever stretching hallway ahead of me, is plagued in a seductive darkness. A scarce amount of dim lights faintly illuminate the flooring below, but still a sense of vagueness lingers. Voices come from every direction. Shouts, whispers – it’s a scene in which everybody is infatuated with themselves: High School. I get caught up in the foolish hysteria and begin to evaluate each individual carefully. In this moment, I notice all of their flaws; their imperfections, and what makes them human. Their vulnerabilities and their insecurities seep out for the whole world to see.

As I meander through the halls, I see a girl in a corner sobbing, clinging on to her friend. As much as she tries to hold it in, the pain comes out like an uproar from her throat in the form of a silent scream. I sense beads of water starting to fall down one after another, without a sign of stopping. The muffled sobs wrack against her chest. Her world turns into a blur. The last painful emotion slams against her before it is clear that she has lost the feeling of feeling. Everything around her darkens into a form of nothingness and numbness.

What could it be now? A bad breakup? Rumors? Whatever it was it was apparent that it meant a great deal to her. Subconsciously, I turn my head to witness some seniors roughhousing like two year olds; letting out muffled squeals of joy as they punch one another.

High school seems to be filled with these crazy kids. Nobody seems to understand me. I’m different. My friend group has become more selective, as many of my old friends have gotten caught up in the delirium that is high school. Doing drugs for popularity; saying rude things to their friends to try and act cool; not trying to do well in school to “fit in.” High school is divergent from middle school. I miss the recess days. I miss the days when rumors weren’t taken as seriously. I miss my friends. I miss the times when people tried to make others happy instead of bring them down. People here can be so rude, so conceited, so narcissistic.

Stepping into the class, I take a quick look around; rows of empty blue seats are suffused all around. I stumble on an armrest of a chair as I attempt to place my bag on the floor. Those in the room giggle at me. “Watch out for the chair,” says one boy, provoking even more chuckles. His face is filled with a kind of droopiness that seems to make his demeanor vulnerable. His size, greater than an average kid, causes him to hobble around. The girl next to him smiles warmingly. Her bright pink braces remind me of the girl from Ugly Betty, and the glasses she wears lean awkwardly, favoring the right side of her nose. The soft pattern of ridges in her skin indicate distress. Still, the entire class continues to look at me. I can feel Transparent precipitation clinging from my face as it descends from my forehead. First semester was rough, but now this? A class with none of my friends? Not even somebody from my grade? I’m an outlier. These people they don’t know me, and won’t give me a chance because I’m a freshman and everybody hates freshman…