Here’s my second entry! 🙂
The school bell rings and the classroom and all my peers leave the room, but I stay seated in the small classroom. Mrs. Johnson asked me to stay after class. Again.
She walks over to me. A small pitying smile plays on her pale pink lips.
“Listen, August. Your grades are slipping again. Have you been going to your tutoring lessons?” She asks sighing.
“Of course.” I say quietly.
“Well your math scores are getting worse and worse. I have a free night next Monday. If you want we can go over your test, make some corrections, and bump up your mark.”
“Ok you can go. Have a good evening.”
“You too.” I mumble and slink out of the empty classroom with bare walls and dull desks. This place feels like a prison to me. Get up. Go to school. Come home. Try to get homework done. Go to bed. A never ending mediocre routine everyday. I rush out of the school dropping my books off at my locker and quickly picking up a note that fell out. My English homework assignment that was due 3 months ago. They told me to write down all the things that describe who I am. I came up with nothing. I just don’t really know who I am. It’s not that easy for me.
I sit on my bed and stare at it. The box of bad memories. I put the old English assignment on my bed and write down one word: Lonely. That’s what am. I’m lonely. Then the rest just come pouring out of me.
Confused, angry, sad, out of control, dumb.
I write down dumb smashing the pencil into the paper and breaking the lead. I start to cry. It’s not easy for me to let out feelings either. Nothings ever easy for me.
I keep all the bad moments in this box. A box of hate, shame, and hurt. But I won’t let it slowly drag me down anymore. I’m still young. I can turn my life around. I can be more than just a dumb, out of control, mess. I shove the assignment into the box, duct tape the lid on tight and grab it in my arms cradling it to my chest. I run outside and into my backyard, grabbing a box of matches on my way out. I start at the old worn cardboard box corner and light it up.
This is no longer a part of me. This is not who I am. I’m better than this. I watch as the cardboard turns black. I watch the insides turn to dust and I just stand and stare at it. All the years of bad memories bottled up let go free into the sky. I was waiting for somebody to tell me to end my bad feelings, but all along I knew nobody was coming. I needed a hero. But I denied it. Now I’ll be my own hero. This box is the end of something terrible and the start of something great. I slowly make my way back to my room and get another piece of lined paper and write down just one simple word:
Thanks for reading! That was kind of dark, but at least it has a happyish ending :). Comment what you thought.
P.S. Go team half blood!! 😉