• I wanted to move.
    I hated my old school
    with its musty halls
    and going to church everyday.
    It just wasn't who I was.

    I was different from them;
    they knew I was stupid.
    They jeered and jested
    because i was the new girl.
    I was the target.

    But there was one girl
    who wasn't an arrow.
    She had blonde hair and gray eyes.
    She didn't talk much,
    unlike me, who spoke too much.

    We'd sit together at lunch
    and I'd talk about nothing while she ate.
    I noticed that she would smell
    her food before eating it.
    She said it was a habit.

    Middle school begins.
    A start, but also an end.
    I had no classes with my blonde haired friend,
    but that was soon forgotten to me, I am ashamed to admit.

    This newer friend seemed nice.
    Blonde hair, just like the other one.
    But looks are deciving
    as are some faces; she had two.

    Then another, brown hair, like me.
    We shared the same likes, dislikes, and opinions.
    Though lately, I've been feeling distant from her

    So now, high school.
    I see my first blonde friend.
    I don't know how it happened,
    but it did:

    She is my best friend fezevaz