Marching through stiff pavement the world blurs around her, passing her by. This is the day she’ll make her mark. Reciting the words to herself in an endless loop, she creates an unbreakable confidence.
Her feet send shocks through each step. Eyes set forward as the crowded sea separates to unveil her path in familiar streets filled with concerned faces.
As she approaches the crumpled structures sporting barred windows, her pace slows.
Groups of hormonal teens band together forming unofficial groups of seclusion. They stare directly into her eyes without flinching, without emotion. Empty shells.
Her determination flees, retreating so quickly leaving a hollow residue. The bell sounds. The distinct packs disperse and move towards the double doors covered in graffiti and held open by a security guard and the iron fist, in full combat gear.
She bows her head, assumes the position and follows the cattle through the gates to her own personal hell.
Her body blurs in with those of so many. Her nerves tense as she tries her best to blend in once again and not be noticed. It’s too late. They’ve seen her.
On firm thrust of their shoulders into hers acknowledges that today will be like any other.
She stumbles as the hit tricks her balance and her feet scramble to disperse the energy. Walking forward she doesn’t stop, never daring to look back. She’s all too familiar with those gazes of hatred. She can hear their comments, their giggles, and taunts. Don’t give them more, keep pace.
As she approaches her locker its no shock they’ve done it again. Graffiti can be so beautiful but this is the ink of pure evil. The words are written in thick and heavy black strokes. They took their time decorating her space.
She tries to look unfazed but is breaking and aching so bad. She can’t hide it, as the pieces of her lying on the floor around her, there for those who choose to see.
To be continued…