Blurred Vision

My first day of High School went by in such a blur. Coming from a completely different state, I knew nobody.

I tried not to get lost and only made only small talk with a few people in my classes. It felt like everyone had someone to be with and I felt like an intruder. When lunch came, I had no idea who I was going to sit with and I became anxious as I neared the end of the lunch line. I refused to be the stereotypical freshman who ended up eating lunch on a toilet crying in a bathroom stall. I searched for a familiar face and finding none I decided to be bold. I walked up to the first table I saw and greeted two girls I thought looked nice.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” I said. They smiled and offered me the empty chair. We ate and talked and I finished and asked them,”Are you guys freshman?” Their answers were no and as soon as they discovered I wasn’t a sophomore like them, they instantly shut down. Feeling awkward I said thanks and goodbye, only getting small nods in return. I walked around outside, trying to see anyone familiar at all. I saw some, but they were surrounded by people they knew, involved in conversation about things I had no idea about.

I felt alienated, scared, negative. I instantly thought that the next 4 years would be long and unbearable. I went to the nearest bathroom, just to make it look like I had a purpose, feeling uncomfortable in that foreign environment. I was instantly discouraged from using the bathroom because it was so dirty, but one look in the mirror proved to be worth it. I foolishly forgot the consequences of the new moist quality of my new state on my hair.

The work of art I had created in the morning had become a frizzy curly mess. I stared at myself and figured nothing else could go wrong that day. I tried to make myself presentable when a girl came and stood in front of the mirror next to mine. She turned to me and said, “It sure is humid out there.” Prepared for some sort of pun about my appearence, I nodded and agreed. She didn’t make fun of me though, she just smiled and asked me if I was new there.

Desperate for a friend, my excitement quickly grew, and I said yes and asked her if she was too. She told me she was a junior and asked if I was a freshman. When I said yes, She didn’t turn away and ignore me, like the girls I had eaten with did. The words I had been dying to hear escaped her lips, “Welcome to our school.” The words made me smile for the first time that day.

The girl introduced herself, but til this day, I can’t remember it. If you asked me to point her out, I couldn’t do it. I find it funny that I remember every detail of those sophomores I ate with day who were so rude to me, and the one girl who was so kind, who gave me strength to go on the rest of the school day I couldn’t even remember. I see those sophomores most days and roll my eyes at them, recalling their ill mannered behavior my first day. Why do I only remember them? Why am I giving the power the mystery girl deserves to them? Honestly, if I hadn’t gone into the bathroom that day, I’d think I be one of those anonymous people who are always alone. I feel bad that I can’t remember anything about someone who made such an impact on my life.

Why do we “ignore those who adore us, adore those who ignore us, but hurt those who love us?” It’s a very common quality amongst people, and my story is only one of many.