Waking up the next day was torture. I only had a few hours of sleep, but I didn’t really worry. It wasn’t like I was going to be tired for the whole day. I quickly got dresses in one of my normal grey outfits and went out in my back yard. A tear formed in my eye. It was, what I believed would be, the last time I’d be able to see this yard.
I stayed there for a few minutes reflecting on my memories of this house. I closed my eyes, whispered a quiet farewell and walked away. I headed up to my room once more to grab my bag and a few other things I wanted to keep with me then walked out of my front door for, what I was planning to be, the last time.
I took my time when walking to school. I only wanted to look at the world in light rather than darkness just one last time. The cloudy sky made this last morning feel a lot nicer than it would when ending. What I felt would make it better would be rain, but the clouds didn’t seem to be bearing any.
After what felt like half an hour but was more around fifteen minutes, I finally made it to school and went to the back entrance so I can sit in peace without anyone to distract me.
Secretly, I did kind of hope someone would come to talk to me since I was completely terrified. I had this planned for a couple of weeks now, and I left the decision in my unknowing peers. If someone actually cared enough about me to willingly come and talk to me, then I’ll listen to what they have to say and rip up the plans I had. If no one came by the end of the school day, then I’ll just take it as I’m not needed and never come back.
When thinking about it, when I actually attempted at starting a conversation with Clay on the bus, my small comment was more like a plea for help. Unfortunately, he didn’t hear it that way, and I fell even deeper into this pit of depression. Only about eight more hours to see if anyone still cared.
One person walked by and stopped at the other end of the back entrance like he was waiting for someone. He kept checking his phone probably every twenty seconds. He typed up a text or note a few times, then finally looked up when another girl came by. She went straight towards him. They gave each other a small kiss and walked hand in hand through the back entrance. Neither of them noticed me the entire time.
I waited a bit longer. More students walked by. Still, no one took a glance at the sophomore in a dark grey hoodie and black jeans with the long, barely brushed dark brown hair sitting on the floor near the entrance. I sighed. These eight more hours would be torture to go through.
The bell rang. Five minutes to get to my locker then to class. I slowly got up and walked through the doors. Luckily, my locker was already close by, but I barely cared. If I was late, it wouldn’t matter. I wouldn’t be here the next day anyway.
When I got to my locker, I just stopped and stood there for a few seconds. A tear formed in my eye. Is this really how I was going to leave? Just be that one girl that ended up being the one nobody knew? Yeah. If somebody still cared about me, I was giving them that chance to save me. If I leave without anyone’s help, then why should it matter?
Slowly, I focused on the present. I spun the lock to put in the combination and grabbed the books that I left in my locker. If I did end up leaving, which by that point, I thought was very promising, then I’d want to have the books with me.
As quietly as possible, I closed my locker and tried walking away. I ended up almost colliding with someone when trying to turn the corner.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. My voice was as small as a mouse. I just didn’t want to deal with people. Quickly, I maneuvered around the person and continued walking.
The person I collided with only looked at me, then continued on his way. “All right, Clay!” I hear the person yell. He said something else, but I didn’t focus on that. I only turned upon hearing his name, and he was there. Clay kept my gaze for a few moments, but I soon turned around to continue walking. For the third time that day, tears formed in my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Clay,” I muttered, reciting one of the sections in the note I had already written. “If you still cared, I’m sorry,”
I began to hear footsteps behind me.
“I was too weak to continue like this. I wanted people to actually see the real me, not the one that I showed everyone before,”
The late bell rang. I knew there would be at least two people who wouldn’t make it to class on time.
“Please, forgive me, if you could,”
Tears were pouring down my face by that point. The footsteps still didn’t recede.
Then came the word I was hoping and never thought I’d hear.
“Skye.”
Eyes overflowing with tears, I spun around. One emotion I haven’t felt in many years flooded my mind. Hope.