I’m wearing a tank top. It wasn’t the smartest thing to do but when was I ever smart? I felt like it so I did. It was the first thing I’d felt in a while.
I’m walking down the hall in my tank top. I can tell by everyone’s disgusted looks & soft, but not soft enough, whispers that I’m the topic. Even the “freaks” looked at me like a bigger outcast then them.
I’m in a different hallway now. The for class hasn’t rung but I just feel like walking. Walking to get away from the yelled insults that silently follow me as I move & people see. Or maybe I’m walking cause I’m trying to get away from wearing the tank top that I was so ready for. Maybe I was just lying to myself. I’ve gotten good at that.
You find out how many friends you have when you’re me &you wear a tank top. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I’m losing more ground rather then gaining it. I glance at these things I call “friends” as I pass by. They all have different reactions, but none of them have acted like they did before I wore a tank top. After they see me they don’t really acknowledge me at all. Did they really not know? Could they really? Did I really hide it that well? They didn’t actually think I was taking a leak when I went to the bathroom during class? Or maybe they did? How could they know that their smallest playful comments would be taken to heart by someone stupid like me?
I’ve almost been through the whole school & no one has approached me. Maybe they’re scared I’m going to cut them if they approach. I chuckle to myself at the thought. I’m so cynical. Just like everyone else. As much as we all try to be different it just brings us to be the same. I bet I’m the only one who’s figured this out.
My walk is taking me down the only hall I haven’t been down yet. I’m ready to scream, out of what? I’m not sure. In rage because of all the people who have just betrayed me. Hurt , because I never knew how many people were just acting & really didn’t give a damn. Hatred, because that’s all I could feel anymore. Depression, because I really was alone. The list could go on & on.
Suddenly something touches my shoulder & I jump spinning around on my heel.
It was a hand that touched me. This hand belonged to a girl. She was smiling, but why? Was I really that funny?
“Sorry if I scared you.” She apologized. Was my imagination playing with me again. “I just wanted to see what was wrong?”
It was my turn to look at someone funny.
“You’er just being so loud today I was wondering if something was wrong.” She continued smiling at me & waited for me to answer.
I looked around unsure of what to do.
Was this girl in front of me real? Could everybody see her? Was something wrong? Of course something was wrong. There’s always something wrong.
“Yes...” I responded & a tear rolled down my cheek. “Something has always been wrong.”
- Title: Tank Top
- Artist: Kradalicious
- Description: I wrote this for my English two class.
- Date: 10/11/2008
- Tags: tank