I groaned as I entered the house, exhausted. Another boring day in the life of a freshman.

I walked into my room and collapsed on my bed. After a few minutes of lying down, I realized I should probably at least attempt to be productive. I got up and noticed something in the corner of my eye caught my attention.
I turned towards my desk to see a rubber band lying on it. Picking it up and looking at it, my head began to fill with nausea as bittersweet memories flooded back into me.


~~~


“What’d you get for lunch?”
“Crap on a stick.”
“Oh, sweet. I got crap in a bowl.”
“I hear tomorrow they’ll be serving crap in a plate. Never been this excited for lunch since they served crap in a box!”
“Oh dude. I just crapped my pants out of excitement.”
“Maybe you could give it to the lunch people.”
I smiled as everyone around me engaged in ridiculous conversation. Another day outside during lunch, in the usual spot I always sat in with my friends.
“Hey dude, wanna arm wrestle?”
I turned to see who asked me and had mixed reactions.
It was Arthur. I’d known him for a while: tall, steely built, intelligent, healthy, and pretty strong. He looked like a pretty nice guy, but more often than not, acted insensitive. Well, to me at least. Being my polar opposite, I naturally felt intimidated every time I talked to him.
I knew I would lose, and I knew even more that I would look ridiculous. But I also knew that backing down would seem weak.
“Um, you sure?” I laughed uncomfortably, trying to ward off his requests.
“Yep! Come on, it’ll be fun!”
You know what? Screw it.
“Okay, fine. LEGGO!” I yelled.
“YES!” He exclaimed.
Little did I know just how much I screwed myself over.
In no time, we were in arm wrestling formation. Him on one side of the table, me on the other. Unluckily for me, pretty much everyone outside started spectating after seeing what was going on.
Crap crap crap.
“Okay, you know the rules.” Arthur stated. “Keep it clean, keep it fair. Ready?”
I grinned awkwardly in response, as if someone held me against my will. Everyone around started cheering.
“Okay, GO!”
*THUMP*
I lasted about two seconds.
Everyone watching looked as if a watermelon had just fallen out of my bottom, Arthur especially. I’m pretty sure my terrible excuse of a poker face only made things worse.
“Uh.” Arthur started hazily. “Come on man, stop playing around. Let’s go for real! AGAIN, GO!”
I lasted about three seconds this time. Arthur and the audience began to realize that this was it. This was all I had to offer.
“Is... is that it?” Arthur asked uncertainly.
I grinned nervously in response.
“Well... okay, I guess it’s unfair against me.” He sympathized. “Why don’t you try on someone else?”
“Uh, alright. Sure.” I responded unconfidently.
Before I knew it, my arm began growing sore. Person after person went against me, one after the other. All in all, the average time of beating me was four seconds; and the only reason it wasn’t any smaller was because someone got distracted by a bird outside the window.
Everyone had beaten me. All the girls who didn’t play any sports, all the guys who ate thousands of calories a day. Even a girl two heads shorter than me. My pride had been torn in half with every win, resulting in a giant pile of self-angst.
Having lost to literally everyone that challenged me, I lay my head down in defeat, knowing that nothing I said could save me now.
“Have you considered exercising, ever?”
Everyone turned against me. I had instantly become the outcast; the one everyone wanted a piece of.
“Do you- sorry, can you even lift? Anything?”
I could barely hold myself together; it was so hard to take.
“How can you even hold yourself?”
All I could do was wait. Wait and hope that it stops.
Eventually it did. People began returning to their original lunch areas while my friends and I were left in peace.
Though the ridiculing had passed, I still felt more meaningless than ever. I kept my composure normal as to not show weakness, but inside, it felt like everyone had stabbed me repeatedly in the chest, taking pleasure in every single cry of pain I excreted.

*SNAP*

“Gah.” I gasped as a rubber band hit my knee. I turned to the source, only to find some of my friends giggling at my demise.

“Oh, sorry, did that hurt?” One of them asked.

“Eh, so so.” I responded uneasily.

“Here, let me try.” Arthur said, grabbing the rubber band.

*SNAP*

“Are you serious?” Arthur turned and looked at me. “Dude, that didn’t even hurt! Holy crap man, I know you’re not the strongest and all, but, well, you’re weak.”

His words tore through my heart, leaving a hole in its wake.
I looked at him for a second before immediately changing the subject.
“So that Math test was easy...” I started, desperately trying to hide the fact that on the inside I was devastated.


~~~


I’ve never been the most intimidating guy. I have one of the most undaunting physiques ever. I’m short, not in shape, pretty weak, and I can’t stand it. Everyday of me looking the way I am is another day where no one takes me seriously. I get walked over pretty much all the time, and nothing I do can stop it.
Ironically, my friends are the ones who do it the most. They toss me around, poke at my physical stature, pick on me because I’m vulnerable, small, weak, and can’t fight back. Nothing I say can help either. If I tell them to stop, they either keep going anyways, or stop and ridicule me for being oversensitive. It’s a losing situation no matter how you look at it. I am weak. I will ALWAYS be weak. My pride will always be consistently hurt because I’m never able to defend it. But I guess all I can do now is wait. Wait and hope that it stops.


I began to sit down at my desk, trying to cast away my feelings of disturbed self-esteem, but a packet of paper caught my eye. I directed my eyes toward it, picked it up, examined it, and groaned when I realized what it was.
It was my Physics Final from last semester. Even after studying my hardest and being given a curve, I did not pass.
See, I went to a Science-directed School. Everyone there was inhumanely intelligent. Many skipped grades, many came from enrichment programs, and pretty much all were celebrated students. I was not.
The past nine years of my life were spent at an ‘educationally advanced’ Catholic Private School, which actually showcased the education prowess of a Sheep on LSD. It seemed that this school was just a conspiracy to find the most inadequate education possible for children, and Science class was the worst. All the teacher did was throw worksheets at us while watching Youtube videos on her laptop.
All in all, I was pretty much among the least prepared for High School, especially a science one. And the thing is, I thought I was still a decently intelligent student, even without my previous education.
Apparently I was wrong.



~~~


“What did you get Jesse?”
“98 out of 100. I just missed the last one, completely forgot to take the inverse cosine.”
“Ah, that sucks. I got a 96 though... Blew the Forces section and labeled Fg mg...”
“Dude. You do NOT do that.”
“I know, sorry.”
“HEY GAIS AH GAT AN 94.”
“No one cares Jerry.”
I cracked a lifeless smile as I heard my classmates discuss their scores. They were all such perfectionists, complaining about their A’s or how they blew the extra credit, while I sat quietly with my 65. Then Jesse, one of the smarter kids in the class, turned around, peeked at my grade, then met my eyes, a cocky expression in his eyes.
“Hey man.” He called, “what’d you get?”
I hesitated and slowly debated telling him or not. “Uh...”
Well, might as well tell the truth.
“I got a 65.” I muttered.
Jesse, still smug, responded, “what was that? I could barely hear you.”
“I got a 65.” I muttered, a little louder.
“I still can’t hear a single word you’re saying!”
Maybe it was because I was frustrated. Maybe it was because I thought it would be entertaining to others. Maybe it was because I just wasn’t thinking. But although I could see what he was trying to make me do, I still played into it.
“I GOT A 65 OUT OF 100!” I shouted.
Time began to lag, as if I was running Windows Vista. Everyone instantly stopped talking and stared at me, seemingly hundreds of eyes piercing into my soul. I wanted so badly to curl up into a ball and hide, anything to escape that moment. But I had thrown myself in. Now I would have to endure before getting myself out.
“You got a 65? Why dude, this was the easiest test yet!”
“Holy crap, are you serious? That’s your score WITH the curve?”
“Wow man. We had an entire week of review. You really that stupid?”
“Dude, I can’t even... wow. What’s your IQ again?”
Voices from every corner in the room screamed at me. Insulting my intelligence, demeaning my pride, unleashing anger and hate upon me. But that wasn’t the worst part.
With time still impeded and voices still ramming into my ears, I looked down, defeated. Out of the corner of my eyes, I spotted Jesse’s face, still smirking. As I looked up, his mouth began moving slowly, almost illegibly, and mouthed out a single phrase. I understood him perfectly.
“You’re retarded.”
My eyes trembled and my mouth quivered. I stood up, trying so hard to keep myself from bursting. I muttered the need to use the restroom, and, voices still jeering in the distance, I ran. Ran as fast as I could. Ran as far away as possible. Ran away from all those devaluing, denigrating, depreciate little jerks. Ran away... rather than fighting back.
The instant I got outside, I tore up. I didn’t want to see Jesse anymore. I didn’t want to go to school anymore. I didn’t want to do anything anymore. I just wanted to die. After all,
Do retards deserve to live?


~~~


All my life I had been the black sheep, the vulnerable one everyone picked on to release their pent-up aggression. At first I was fine with it, thinking it was worth it to get hurt for the good of others. But it seems that after taking up a role, you slowly turn into it.
I no longer had any control over my common sense. I had let people hurt me for so long, I became what was expected. I was always the one who got in trouble by doing the stupidest things. The one who pointed out the obvious. The one who never thought before taking action. The one so difficult to teach. I was the scapegoat, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
I stood clear of Jesse. I transferred to another period and kept my head down whenever he neared. Through time, I got over my suicidal thoughts. Maybe because I was completely avoiding him. Maybe because my friends cheered me up. Maybe because I just needed time to mend. Regardless, suicide had left my mind. But all I want now is to never go through that again.

It was getting harder to stay optimistic. Two recollections of recent events that pretty much decimated my self-esteem and made me question my will to live were not things that made me feel good. I knew one of the best ways to cope was to eat, so I got up and made a kitchen run.
An abundance of random crap awaited me in the fridge. Wheat bread, chocolate milk, Go-gurt, Cake, Diet Cherry Coke, eggs, whipped cream.
Wait... Diet Cherry coke?
I doubled back to the bottle of flavored Coke I had just passed on. Grabbing and looking at it, my stomach began to fill with nausea.
No. Oh God, please no.

My hands began to shake as I continued to stare at it. I struggled to keep my mind blank.

No. Not again.

The harder I tried to resist it, the harder it threw itself into my head.

PLEASE. PLEASE JUST MAKE IT STOP.
But to no avail, it came through, hurtling itself into every open cubit in my brain. I once again blanked off and closed my eyes. I couldn’t stop it. The memory I had been trying to forget for so long had returned.




~~~




“DIET Cherry Coke?”

“Yup! There’s just something about chemically infused carbonated liquid that calms me down.”

“Well, whatever floats your boat.”

I watched the soda drop to the latch at the bottom of the High School vending machine and picked it up. As I was about to open it, two girls walked by.

“Hey!” They both giggled, staring at Brandon.

“Hey guys!” Brandon responded suavely.

“Uh, hi guys!” I stuttered as well.

They glared at me, as if saying ‘you weren’t allowed to talk.’ I shrunk down as they walked out of sight.

“HAH!” Brandon exclaimed in that annoying tone of his. “They like me more, no surprise. After all, I’m a foxy little ladies’ man that everyone loves.”

“Sure thing airhead.”

“What, you jealous? I would be jealous too, if I had the world’s tiniest-”

“Too far.”
“Brain. Wow, is that really what you thought I was going for? Oh my gosh, you’re such a pervert.”
*SLAP*
I groaned. Pretty much all of our conversations ended with him slapping me.
“That didn’t seem necessary.”
“It’s ALWAYS necessary, jackass. So anyways, is this really happening? You’re really going to do it?”

“I guess.” I sighed. “I have to do it someday, don’t I? She usually sits outside, and we’ve got ten minutes until lunch ends. Wish me luck?”

“You sure you’re ready?”

“I’ve learned in these situations to act quickly before you start thinking.”

“Flawed logic, but whatever. See you in English!”

He walked away briskly, leaving me alone with some Diet Cherry Coke, an upset stomach, and an impossible task.

I was stupid for thinking I could pull this off, thinking that it’ll make a difference. The walk there made it seem like I was on death row. The closer I got, the slower time passed. Then... I saw her, talking and laughing with her friends. As I neared, she turned around and noticed me.
“Hey!” She smiled, my knees turning to jelly.
I looked into her eyes and suddenly stopped thinking of everything else but her. She was beautiful. Every time she looked at me with those stunning brown eyes, I lost the ability to form coherent sentences. Every time she smiled that gorgeous smile of hers, my stomach became overridden with butterflies. Every time she laughed that precious laugh of hers, I suddenly felt ridiculously giddy inside. No other girl could hold a single candle to her. She was so much more. She was perfect.
“Hey!” I responded nervously, returning the smile. “Uh, can we talk?”

“Oh, in private?” She stated nervously, her facial expression completely changing.

“Um, yeah.” It felt like I could almost taste the awkward.

We walked out to the hallway as I glanced at my friends, which she hadn’t noticed. They were giving me thumbs ups and wide grins, while I returned an uneasy one back, not really sure of what I was getting myself into. We stopped next to the safety patrol closet, and at that moment, it was taking all of my willpower to not run away and jump off a cliff.

“So what’s up?” She said, peering at me.

For six months I had been hopelessly in love with her. And it all led up to this.

“So what’s up?” She asked curiously.

“Well... I’ve had to get off my chest for the longest time. I’ve liked you for a long time. Heck, pretty much the entire year. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, and you’ve made me feel something that I’ve never felt for anyone else. Do you wanna go out? Well, not out out, like outside, seeing as though we’re alrea-”
“I know, I get it.” She stopped, smiling faintly. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but... no. I can’t.”
My heart broke once.
“Why?” I stuttered.
“I’m in love with someone else.”
Twice.
“Who?”
She hesitated uncomfortably.
“Brandon.” She muttered.
Three times.
“It’s alright, I’m used to everyone liking him over me.” I laughed nervously.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t see you that way at all.” She stated. “And no offense, but this was really uncomfortable. You’ve acted so... selfish all year. All your actions, all your words, it was obvious that you loved me. But did you think for one second how that affected me? I’ve been made fun of consistently. Your antics have placed great deals of stress on me. I’ve been very patient with you, but this has gone too far. I’m sorry, but to be perfectly honest, you’re pathetic.”
Shattered.
Those two words throbbed in my ears as if my heart wanted to crawl out and die again. I suddenly regretted ever asking her out. I suddenly regretted attempting anything with her.
“It’s just... you’re always so quiet around girls, me especially.” She went on. “You always look so uncomfortable, and you’re really hard to talk to. In one period with Brandon, I’ve had more fun than in all the periods we’ve had combined. Why can’t you be more social? Why can’t you be more easy going and charming? Why can’t you be more like Brandon?”
Oh, if only you knew.
All I wanted to do right now was crawl somewhere secluded, somewhere where no one could hear me, and scream. Scream until my lungs burst. Scream until I could breathe no more. Scream until this hell had escaped me.

“I think I should go.” I muttered.
“I think so too.” She grimaced.
I turned and walked away, getting out my Diet Cherry Coke. I stared at it for a moment before submerging myself in it, trying as hard as I could to hold back tears.


~~~


I struggled to compose myself. I had tried so hard to forget what had happened, but everything came back just as clear. She was anything I’d ever wanted and I could never have her.
It had been over a year. Being a grade younger, she stayed back while I went on to High School. But when it seemed I had moved on, somewhere in the back of my mind, she remained. Dreams of a future with her remained. Dreams of snuggling on a couch and watching tv, dreams of resting underneath a tree on a bright summer day, dreams of a relationship so beautifully crafted, nothing could break it. Dreams... that would never be anything more.
She was with Brandon now, and they were happy. Everyone had talked about how adorable they were together, how much they loved each other, and how healthy their relationship was. Brandon and I lost touch, maybe because I couldn’t handle a good friend of mine dating the girl of my dreams, maybe because he was getting on my nerves, or maybe because I still hadn’t gotten over her.
He doesn’t deserve her.

Tears began to slowly flood my eyes, blurring my vision of reality. With a quick swipe of my arm, I prevented them from being anything more. In another wild attempt to distance myself from the past, I suddenly remembered something important...
The letters arrive today.
Each summer, my church accepted several dozen teens to do a volunteer mission trip down in Mexico for three weeks. There we would assist the less unfortunate by helping with farming, entertaining the children, and generally spreading goodwill. I didn’t apply for it last year because other camps had come up, but this summer, I wanted to go.
I, along with pretty much every other teen I knew, had applied for it. This Trip did not discriminate against anyone of any religion, despite being a Church, and anyone from anywhere could sign up. We had to write an essay and fill out an application, but I’ve heard everyone always got in, and that this trip was life-changing.
Color flushed back into my skin as excitement flew through my body. Maybe this trip would make me a new person, and allow me to finally move past everything that’s bothered me. Everything seemed perfect.
I just have to get it.

Thank god I’m still home alone. Anyone who would’ve seen me frolic to the mailbox like a unicorn and scamper back like a bunny would kidnap me and throw me into a mental institution. But I now possessed my ticket to escaping depression. Hungering for an answer, I sat at my desk and opened it up.
“LADADA, WE THANK YOU FOR APPLYING.” I yelled, reading out loud for no apparent reason at all. “BLAHBLAHBLAH, NICE WEATHER WE’RE HAVING EH?” Delaying the dramatic tension as long as I could, I yelled at the same pace I read it in.
“BORINGTEXTNOONEWILL READ, ah, HERE we go.”
My face dropped. My eyes widened.
Did I... Did I read that right?
We’re sorry to say that you have not been accepted into this year’s mission trip. Thank you, and don’t forget to apply again next year.
The more I read, the more my eyes impeded.
You have not been accepted.
Wh-w-w-WHAT?
In a desperate attempt to prove to myself that I wasn’t inferior, I logged onto Facebook.
Maybe I wasn’t the only one.
The second my News Feed finished loading, I rapidly began scrolling through it. Then, the small ray of hope, the hope that I didn’t stand alone, shattered.
Everyone had gotten in. Everyone had been accepted. Arthur, Jesse, Brandon; Anyone who’d ever hurt me or been nice to me. All my closest friends and worst enemies.
Everyone but me.

“OH YEAH, I just got accepted into the mission trip!”

“Holy turdsauce, I’m gonna be in Mexico this summer!”

“I GOT INTO THE TRIP! I guess someone out there is watching out for me.”

Every status was the same. But one particular status broke my heart.

“Oh my god, I got into the trip! @Brandon did too! We’re going to have such a great time together. ;) <3”

She had been accepted too. With Brandon no less... I perused through the status, and looked at all the likes and comments.

“AWWW, YOU TWO ARE SO ADORABLE! Have fun in Mexico! ;)”

“Don’t go too crazy kids. Keep it PG. Or PG-13, whichever.”

“You two are perfect for eachother.”

Tears returned. I neared breaking point. At last, I was pushed into a corner I could no longer distract myself from.
Then I got a message from Brandon. After an entire year of no interaction, he was suddenly talking again.
“Dude, I GOT IN!”
“Sweet.”
“What about you?”
“Eh, no.”
A few minutes passed before he responded.
“Aw, that sucks. It’s fine I guess. You probably just weren’t good enough.”
I froze up and leaned in closer to examine more thoroughly.
You probably just weren’t good enough.

I grabbed the letter again and reread it, eyes darting from side to side.

I read it again.
You probably just weren’t good enough.
And again.
You weren’t good enough.
And again.
You’re not good enough.
It seems like... another lie, isn’t it? It’s not true...I...
I looked down at the letter and read it one last time.
YOU’RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH.
I felt another twinge of anger, but it quickly died down in place of realization.
He’s... right.
That marked the moment when everything came crashing down.
I fell to the ground and grabbed my head, figures of everyone I knew appearing around me. They all yelled at me simultaneously, calling out every single flaw I found in myself. Every single flaw I had ever had. My heart stopped beating and a shiver crawled down my throat.
I had to get out of here.
I darted out of my room, slammed the door, and ran. The door, rather than leading to the hallway by my room, led to complete darkness. I continued to run, increasingly faster still. But everywhere I went, my ghosts followed me. Shadowing my every move.
Arthur appeared with all my friends behind him, and I slowly backed up. Then he spoke, in the exact same way as he did before.
You’re weak.
I turned around and kept running. My head began to race. My mind began to run on its own. But I couldn’t escape. Jesse and all his friends materialized and surrounded me. It was like before; Everyone began yelling the same hurtful words, but all I could still hear was Jesse.
You’re retarded.
Like I did once, I turned and ran, tears forming on my eyelids. Then I reached a dead end. Turning around, I realized that anyone I ever met who had insulted me, anyone who I ever stood in the shadow of, had surrounded me. And once again, barrages of hate and loathing came towards me.
You’re disgusting.
You’re creepy.
You’re gross.
You’re fat.
My lungs tightened and began hyperventilating. My eyes twitched, my fingers jerked, my legs numbed, my face reddened. Everything that I had ever felt insecure about was being thrown at me from all directions, and I couldn’t take it anymore.
But then... She stepped towards me, beautiful as ever, with Brandon smirking behind her. The others all stopped talking as soon as she presented herself, looking on at her next move. She stared at me for a bit and frowned; then slowly stepping closer until we were mere inches away. An unemotional, twisted smile; one of which I could never imagine on her, took shape. She spoke, her voice sinister and very unlike her, the words that had devastated me the most.
You’re pathetic.
My jaw jerked and my eyes twitched. But it didn’t end there. She stepped back and Brandon stepped forward in her place. He stared at me with that cocky smirk of his, stirring emotions of contempt within me. He opened his mouth, savoring every word he said.
You’re not good enough. You’ll NEVER be good enough. For anyone, for anything, forever. So just shut up and die, jackass.
I was no longer in control of my body. My brain was no longer running right. Something inside had snapped. I instinctively pushed past all of them -as they were in my head anyway- and ran once more.
PLEASE JUST MAKE IT STOP!
“You should’ve asked sooner.”
A gravelly voice rang in my head, sending shivers through my skull. Something dropped into my pocket. I reached inside and pulled it out, glancing at it.
I know what I have to do.
Weak, retarded, pathetic people did not deserve to live. I didn’t deserve to live. I closed my eyes and broke down in tears, sobbing rampantly, as words of revulsion continued to spiral around me. My fingers rattled uncontrollably as I curled my pointer around the trigger, draining my strength with every moment’s pass. Arms shaking, tears streaming, mouth wavered, body convulsing; I somehow found the strength to lift it up to my head.


Maybe in death, I’ll mean something. But I’d rather die than stay a shadow.

I woke up and blinked.
What happened?
I sat on my desk, back at home. The same position I sat in before. Except this time...
I turned towards the voice and leaped back.
“WHO THE FRIG ARE YOU?” I yelled, panicked. “HOW DID YOU GET HERE? Stay back! I know 55 different forms of martial arts and I have a rape whis-”
“Calm down kid.” He laughed.
He didn’t really look like a rapist. He actually looked more like a freshly graduated College Student, getting ready to go to Grad School or something. He had black hair, brown eyes full of kindness, a soothing voice, and a reassuring smile.
“So, uh, what do you want?” I questioned uncertainly. “I can go downstairs and make us pop tarts or so-”
“That won’t be necessary.” He said firmly. “You know why I’m here. I need to know why you picked up the gun.”
So it wasn’t a dream.
I swallowed nervously. All of it returned to me. The desperation, the agony, the need to escape. I had fallen so far, I wanted to give up.
“I just... I just wanted it to end.”
He looked at me for a bit, then stared off.
“All those things said to you. About you being pathetic, gross, ect. Why do you let it hurt you so much?”
I bit my lip in shame and replied, “I guess... when things of that sort are said to you... you start to believe it yourself.”
He looked at me again, seemingly staring right into my soul and finding the correct way to reach out.
“You can fight back. All you have to do is remember these.
One, physical ability and appearance does not place the importance of one over another.
Two, words are words. You can choose to either submit to them, or use them to rise higher.
Three, the worse a memory is, the worse it changes over time, and the more it plays in your head. They replay consistently, eating away your self-esteem, angering you at how stupid you once were, and tempting you with the thoughts of ‘what could have been’. But eventually, you must forget about these memories, keep your head up, and move on.
And most importantly of all, you can’t be shadowed if there’s no one there to cast it. No matter what you do or how you act, somewhere right now, people are judging you, asserting themselves above you, shadowing you. You can’t control that. But what you can do: is not care. If you don’t care about who is casting the shadow, you will no longer be under it.”
He got up and dusted off his clothing while I continued to sit in silence, trying to absorb everything just said.
“I believe you know what to do now.” He smiled.
“Are... are you real? Was this a dream?” I asked.
“It doesn’t matter if this is reality or imagination.” He winked. “All that matters now is that I am throwing words at you, and it’s your choice to either believe them, or let them be. Though I hope now, you have good enough judgement to choose.”
With a wave and another smile, he vanished. I got up and went through the door, once again facing my darkness.


~~~


The ghosts returned, voices louder than ever; Engrossing me once more in pure hatred.
You’re disgusting.
You’re creepy.
You’re gross.
You’re fat.
The pain returned, filling my head with anxiety and causing my throat to dry up. I covered my ears in an attempt to block them out.
No.
I rose up and stood my ground against them. Arthur stepped up with everyone else that witnessed my arm wrestling stint. Then, in that clueless voice of his, repeated the words that devastated me.
You’re weak.
This time, I stared right into his eyes.

Physical ability and appearance does not place the importance of one over another.

“I am weak. I’m small, tiny, and no one ever feels threatened by me. But that doesn’t make me any less of a person than you. So honestly, just leave me alone.”
Despite being a ghost, I pushed him over. Sprawled on the floor, he seemed dumbfounded, as did everyone else who had witnessed the wrestling, and anyone else who had take advantage of my physique. Within seconds, they all vanished, Arthur still with that look on his face.
One down, three to go.

I turned around to see Jesse, an over-confident smirk plastered on his face as usual. He stood alongside every student that had learned my grade on that Physics Final.
You’re retarded.
Words are words. You can choose to either submit to them, or use them to rise higher.
“I am not retarded. I am, however, human. Making mistakes is a part of being human. What sets each of us apart is determination. The willingness to accept losses and use them to strike back harder.”
I took a piece of paper out of my pocket. I didn’t know I had it, but I guess someone out there gave me what I needed when I needed it.
“See this Jesse?” I asked, holding the paper out.
He examined it, came to a conclusion, and his mouth dropped about 3 feet downwards.
“100 out of 100 on this Physics Semester’s final.” I exclaimed triumphantly. “Oh, and this time? I remembered to take the inverse cosine.”
He stared at me in shock, in tandem with all the other students, before vanishing like Arthur and friends had.
My smile dropped quickly, upon realization of what I had to do now.

I looked to the right to see her again. She still looked pale and demonic... and yet, still so hauntingly beautiful. I stared into her eyes, trembling, took a deep breath, and began.
Bad memories replay consistently, eating away your self-esteem, angering you at how stupid you once were, and tempting you with the thoughts of ‘what could have been’. But eventually, you must forget about these memories, keep your head up, and move on.
“You were the first one I’ve truly fallen in love with.” I began, voice breaking. “You were the first one who I would give anything to be with. And... you were the first one who put my heart through hell. But you know what? It wasn’t your fault.”
I stopped for a bit and sniffled, taking a few moments before continuing.
“I had messed up so consistently. I had put you in a terrible position, despised by everyone. Worse of all, I did everything because I expected you to fall into my arms and run away with me in the end. And even now, an entire year later, I am still so in love with you. But I can’t be hung up over you forever.”
I couldn’t hold it any longer. Single tears began to rush down through my eyes while my voice wavered.
I hope you end up with the guy of your dreams, be it Brandon or someone else. I hope you live life to its fullest, because that you deserve nothing less. And lastly, I hope you live life knowing that you are loved.
Good bye Joanna. This time, I’m finally moving on.”
As soon as I finished talking, she immediately became immersed in a giant flash of radiant light. I looked away, blocking my eyes to avoid being blinded, and when i looked back, all I could do was gape in shock.
She stood there, but this time... she looked normal. No longer demonic, skin no longer pale white. She looked the exact way I saw her last. Then... she hugged me.
Tears continued to run down my cheek, but this time... they ran down her cheeks as well. If I could live that moment in eternity, I probably would. But eventually, we pulled away.
I took one last glance at her. Eyes shining vividly, hair flowing softly. She was beautiful.
And she was no longer part of my mind.
With one final radiant smile, staring straight into my eyes, she vanished.

I wiped a tear off my eyes and looked around. Only one person stood left, Brandon. I approached him slowly, frowned at him, and snarled,
“Imposter.”
Brandon smiled wickedly and changed shape.
I now stood face to face with myself.
No matter what you do or how you act, somewhere right now, people are judging you, asserting themselves above you, shadowing you. You can’t control that. But what you can do: is not care. If you don’t care about who is casting the shadow, you will no longer be under it.
“All this time, I blamed others for giving me a hard time.” I started, beginning to pace slowly back and forth. “I kept claiming I had it the worst. Being weak, retarded, pathetic, not good enough. But oh, the irony. All this time, I never knew that I was the real culprit.”
I stopped pacing to glare at myself. This felt really weird.
“You are always being judged by someone, no matter what. But in the end, if you don’t let it affect you, then guess what? It won’t.
But there’s the problem. Not only do I care, I care a lot. Anytime someone ever insults me, rather than ignoring it, I take it in, beat it to death, and believe it.”
I stopped pacing again to realize how true all of it was.
“So the line is drawn here. I am done. Done with caring about what other people think. Done with caring about what other people say. Done with people that I shouldn’t give a single s*** about. Because if you don’t care about who’s casting the shadow, there won’t be anyone left to cast it.”
With that, my reflection, my shadow, myself, vanished into dust. My darkness brightened into light, and in the blink of an eye, I had landed back in my room, as if I’d never left.

No one was left to cast a shadow, so I no longer stood in one. I smiled and leaned back on my chair. All seemed right in the world. And who cares if it was a dream?


All that mattered was that words were being thrown at me, and I chose to let them be.

THE END