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Eva
I hate this school.
I hate this town.
I just want to go away and find a happy place like everyone seems to find in books and movies. But maybe it's only fiction. Maybe in real life, no one finds their happy place, and that's why they wanna create it.
As I walk from the office
back to the main school building, I sigh and change my mind about going to the class. I’m already in trouble, one more or less wouldn’t make any difference. So instead, I sit under a tree at the back of the school buildings and grab my journal from my bag.
Writing is the only thing that makes me happy in life. At least I can create a happy place there.
This town is so small, and everyone knows everyone, but it's not a close-knit community. All people care about is your money. Your bank account decides if people will greet you on the street or turn their heads away. That's why people smile and try to make small talk with me when I take a walk in the streets, not because they give a shit about me. If my family and I weren't their favorite gossip topic, I'm sure they wouldn't even know my name. But my family's money also makes us the target of their prying eyes and cruel comments, even when my family was shattered by loss.
Madison Hall High is one of the two schools in town and the only private one. The kids in here all know each other. They grew up together. They’re in the same circle, the circle I’m not invited. Because I was always the rich kid they love to hate. Even though they were rich and spoiled, they always thought what I had was better, bigger, shinier. They hated me for the things I didn’t ask for. In their eyes, I had it all.
And when the only thing I cared about – my family and happiness – was taken away from me by fate, the cruel bitch, I was just too much trouble for them to give me a chance to be their friend.
Making it into teenage years only made it worse. Just like the rest of the town, the kids at school smile and wave at me in the hallways, or in the cafeteria, but the moment I turn my back they giggle and gossip.
I don't really hold a grudge against them. Maybe I deserve it. Perhaps I'm the evil. Since my own parents can't seem to care about me, why would someone else do it? I sometimes think my parents forgot they have a daughter. I understand them, I mean I'm trying to.
I know they blame me. One moment of distraction, just one moment of panic ripped my family apart. They remember what hurts them when they look at me. And instead, they give themselves to their job. Their careers are their religion. They're the best attorneys in the state.
I'm proud of them, but I'm also scared of their ambition for social status and money. For success. I've heard them fight against each other in court so many times. But sometimes, I wish they’d forget about money and others and just have some time to spare for their daughter. To see things from my perspective.
I sigh and shake my head. This is how it is.
I’ve accepted this life, dealt with being alone, but I hate it.
I’m tired.
I’ve mastered at acting indifferent, but at the age of eighteen, knowing that I’ll leave this town behind me for college, taking nothing valuable from this town hurts.
It’s my hometown, but it’s never felt like home to me, just like the big house I grew up in.
Maybe that’s why I’m writing, and why I want to be a writer. They say writing is a lonely hobby, after all.
And seems like it’s true.
I can't stop thinking about him. Elijah. I don't know what it was between us, but in that short time, he made me smile. He made me feel like a normal teenager. I've never had a crush on any boy before, but there was something about him. He made my heart beat faster. I felt hope that things will get better.
I don't know why he had such power to make me feel that way. Maybe I'm just so hungry for attention, and he was someone new, someone who didn't judge me or look at me with pitiful distaste. I don't know. I'm pathetic to even think about him.
He was a stranger I will never see again.
I just wonder if it’ll ever get better. If I’ll have any friends. If someone will ever love me. If one person’s love will be enough to fill the hole inside me. If, if, if…
Finding the answers to these questions is the only push that keeps me going. Hope. It’s a bitch, but when you have no one else, you take the friendship of that bitch willingly.
I stop writing when my phone on my journal vibrates. It lets me know the first period and lunch break have ended, and I need to go to my next class, English.
I smile. That's the only class I love. I quickly grab my things and push them into my bag.
As I walk back into the main building, I notice everyone is already in their classes. I love this school when hallways are empty and mean faces are gone, but I hate being late. It means everyone’s attention will be on me and whispers will reach to my ears again.
