My heart pounds in my chest as I check my watch again. Fifteen minutes, ten minutes, five, and then none. The bell rings, students begin walking towards their classrooms, chatting and laughing together. Big loud groups, gossiping best friends, and obnoxious lovers walk the hallways. Everyone has their place already, somewhere they belong. My head tilts down and my eyes fixate on the tile floor, safe from anyone’s judgmental gaze. I don’t dare to make a sound, controlling my breathing as best I can after running up the stairs, attempting to match their pace. Holding onto the only solid info I have, a small, discolored piece of paper with vague instructions on where my classes are. Navigating through the crowded, twisting hallways, I arrive at my destination, first period math class. 

Stepping into the cramped room, I’m met with uninviting gray walls, unorganized clusters of desks, and small groups of people lazily lounging across the tables. I sit at the desk furthest away from everyone, and closest to the door, planning my escape route if necessary. My pupils shrink, still adjusting to the aggressive fluorescent lighting. I look around, many already established groups of friends chitter snarky remarks at others across the room. The teacher walks in, no one bothers to quiet down. My leg bounces subconsciously, dreading what comes next; icebreakers. I silently pray to any possible being that will listen, that I’m not first. 

The teacher looks around the room and then stops at me, “You there, go ahead and tell us your name and a fun fact about yourself” her lips form a thin, false smile. I reluctantly stand up, my hands trembling slightly as everyone peers at me with sly eyes. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. I stumble over my words, my mind playing some sort of cruel joke on me. Some students snicker, some look at me in solidarity. Eventually I managed to choke out my name, and a mediocre fact that wasn’t even true. I sit down, a lump forming in my throat, staring at my desk in a desperate attempt to blend in again. I feel the disapproving gaze of my fellow peers burning a hole through my skull. Moments pass that feel like eternities, but now it’s someone else’s turn. I sigh in relief as all attention has shifted off me. 

The next student confidently says their name and a fun fact, their friends jokingly picking fun at them in the surrounding desks. Time drags by, the clock’s ticking pierces my eardrums with every second. I impatiently wait for the rest of my classes to be over. Second bell, third bell, fourth bell, and then fifth, it’s time for lunch. My blood runs cold and my teeth grind together. I make my way to the cafeteria, the atmosphere is cold and quiet. I maintain eye contact with the tiles and insert myself awkwardly into the lunch line. There are too many options, all of them look as if they’ve been left out for hours in the stale air. I choose what the person in front of me has on their tray, having no energy left to make decisions for myself anymore. The lunch lady asks me to swipe my ID card in an overly saccharide voice. But the worst is yet to come, I have to find somewhere to sit. 

I scan through the aisles of tables looking for an open seat that’s not too close to anyone else. I see the perfect place and maneuver my way through the stagnant crowd. I take a deep breath and sit down, my stomach rumbles both from hunger and nerves. I take small bites of my bland, lukewarm cheeseburger, ignoring the soggy broccoli with frozen crystallites slowly melting away. I listen to the whispers and giggles of girls around me, and the booming laughter of the boys. The short lunch period passes by, with 3 minutes till the bell rings I abandon my subpar meal in the trash can and head off to my next class. 

The rest of my classes drearily crawl by, the end of the school day finally approaching. The last bell chimes to signal that the day is over at last. Students jump from their seats and begin to urgently crowd the hallways with their friends once again. Dread bubbles within me as I near the bus pickup area. Soon I’ll have to find another seat, but this time in a much smaller area. I loiter near the gates until I spot my bus pulling up to the curb. I silently trudge over and get on the bus, scouring every possible place to sit. To my horror, every window seat was already occupied, so now I must make the decision of who to sit directly next to. 

I choose to sit next to a girl with designer shoes and clothes, she shoots me a disgusted look and lets out an exaggerated sigh. It’s clear she doesn’t want someone like me sitting next to her, but what choice do I have? I face slightly away and keep my eyes glued to the ridges of the bus floor. I bite the inside of my cheek to ease the anxiety inside of me, threatening to burst out. Fifteen minutes pass, the noisy conversations swirl around me but they can’t break the icy silence surrounding my seat. The bus takes a familiar turn and stops at the corner two blocks away from my house. I’m the only person to get off at this stop, I quickly dart past the seats in front of me and down the steps. Briskly walking away, I don’t dare to turn back and look at the bus. It begins to drizzle, cold raindrops fall slowly and then suddenly speed up. I continue to walk in the rain as the bus starts up again and speeds past me, kicking up dust and leaves on its trail. 

I reach my door and manage to unlock it, trailing water into the house from my soaked clothes. My mom asks how my day was. I mask my voice and tell her it was fine, grateful that she can’t tell the difference between the water dripping from my hair and the tears streaming down my face. I hastily walk up the stairs to my room and close the door behind me. Laying on the floor in my dark, lonely room, with cold, stiff clothes still on, I close my eyes for a moment and feel my thoughts weighing on my soul. I have to do it all again tomorrow, and the day after that. Over and over until the school year is through. Could I really survive another year of this?