An adaptation of what I wrote in the English School Certificate for long response.
Looking at the photograph reminded me of how much things have changed. I was actually happy, among a group of friends surrounding a statue making funny faces. When was the last time I smiled like that? I couldn’t remember.
***********
The school bell rang, signalling the end of the day. Faces rushed past me, in a hurry to catch their trains and buses, eager to get home. I dawdled. There was no need for me to rush, after all, my parents weren’t going to be home until late and there would be no one around to keep me company. Was there a point in rushing off with the crowd, getting pushed and shoved in hopes of reaching the gates first?
I lingered around the front office, pacing back and forth, waiting for Jenny who promised to walk with me to the station. I let my auburn curls hang over my face. Where was she? Did she forget yet again? Not risking missing my train, I made my way out of the school. Did she forget about me? She promised to listen to my problems but where was she?
I kicked at a coke can littered on the sidewalk, not exactly concentrating on where I was going. It clattered onto a piece of glass, the remnants of a beer bottle. I picked it up, feeling the sharp edge with my fingers and the smooth surface against my palms. I walked on. Images flashed through my mind like a slideshow put on fast play. What would happen if I were to die today? Would someone finally care about me? Would anyone realise I’m gone? I felt my hands sliding my jumper sleeve up to my elbows; my fingers brushed the smooth skin. Holding the piece of jagged glass, I watched myself place it on a snaky blue vein. I closed my eyes.
“Lily, no!!!” It was Jenny. I felt hands grabbing my arms and easing the glass out of my grasp. Opening my eyes, I saw the world tumble before me and I let my energy drain completely.
***********
I stared at my reflection on the window of the tattered train. My mascara blended with my tears, forming pools of black under my eyes. I looked hollow. I tried to smile, forcing the corners of my lips upward. What was I doing!? Lying to myself doesn’t conceal the pain; putting on a mask doesn’t make me happy. Who was I kidding? Happiness wasn’t meant for me.
