To survive high school, you need to know the three basic rules:
1. Trust no one. This one is a no-brainer, these are high schoolers we’re talking about. No matter how much you think a person is loyal to you; they are human. Humans have flaws.
2. Never, EVER, get caught in drama. The last thing you want to get caught in is a web of never-ending fights, arguments, and bullying; all because she said, he said, and they said. If you have friends that are always looking for trouble, they’re not your friends anymore.
And last but not least…
3. Remember your place. Don’t try and make friends with kids who are obviously way above your league. They want nothing to do with you, and never will. Best to even avoid their gaze lest they use you for their entertainment.
And I had just found Exhibit A.
A girl with thick glasses carrying her tray of food stumbled and fell down, right in front of a table of popular girls. Like a pack of wolves, they immediately wasted no time laughing at the poor girl. One even had the guts to kick a little bit of food particles on the girl’s face.
Everything went in slow-motion, as if something or someone was forcing me to watch this scene second for second. Everything from the eruption of unempathetic laughter, to the smell of cheese making me near-vomit, to even the tiny sound of the girl sniffling; I could feel it all.
As I watched the scene unfold, a feeling of fear washed over me. I felt like I was in the presence of a pack of wild animals, ready to pounce on their prey at any moment. The laughter was so loud, it felt like it was piercing my eardrums. My heart raced as I tried to think of what to do, but my mind was blank.
Anger began to simmer within me, as I realized how cruel these girls were being. How could anyone find joy in someone else’s misery? I wanted to scream at them, to tell them to stop and to leave the poor girl alone. But the words wouldn’t come out. It was like my mouth was glued shut, and I was unable to speak up.
Helplessness consumed me as I watched the girl being humiliated in front of everyone. I felt like I was failing her, failing myself, by not doing anything. But what could I do? The girls were so popular, and I was just a nobody. They had the power to ruin my life if they wanted to.
As the girl ran away, tears streaming down her face, I felt a deep sense of shame. Shame for not being brave enough to stand up for her, for not being the hero I wanted to be. I wanted to hide, to disappear from the world. But I couldn’t. I had to face the consequences of my inaction
But I just stood there. Like a coward.
I had never been the courageous type.
A camera flash from a phone eventually broke me from my trance and I had come to. Though she tried to hide it, I saw tears roll down the girl’s face. She shakily stood up and walked through the crowd of people. They showed 0 mercy and mocked the girl as she ran away from them.
I didn’t laugh, in fact it felt like I couldn’t breathe. My mind was racing with questions like “What if I had helped”, “What if that was me?”, “Am I a terrible person?”. I felt like such a… such a coward! Unprocessed emotions flowed into my already tired brain, and I abandoned the idea of even getting lunch.
I didn’t deserve to eat.
In the distance, I saw my friend group. They all had their phones out and from what I could tell, they were showing their pictures of the girl. I felt my stomach churn;
I felt my stomach churn; how could they find entertainment in someone’s misery? These were supposed to be my friends, but in that moment, I felt like I didn’t know them at all. I wanted to confront them, to tell them how wrong it was, but I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. They would just brush it off as a joke or tell me to lighten up.
I felt a pang of guilt for not standing up for the girl, for not being the hero I wanted to be. But now, I had a decision to make. Would I continue to associate myself with people who found joy in someone’s pain, or would I distance myself and find new friends who shared my values? It was a tough choice, but I knew deep down what I had to do.
I took a deep breath and walked past my friend group without saying a word. As I made my way to my next class, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would be able to find new friends who were different from the ones I had known my whole life.
Probably not.
Hell, it’d be easier if I was known as an outcast, loner, or even a weirdo. At least people acknowledge my existence, even if it was in a negative manner.
But I’m not even known.
Even as I choose not to sit by my usual friend group, they probably didn’t know that I wasn’t there neither did they care either.
I needed privacy, somewhere where I can process and gather my thoughts about what just happened. Walking down the hallway, I saw a bathroom not far from me.
‘Oh thank God!’ I thought to myself.
I walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. The silence was deafening, and I leaned against the sink, taking deep breaths. My mind was still racing with thoughts and questions.
How could those girls be so heartless? Why didn’t I do something to help that poor girl? Was I really that much of a coward?
I looked at myself in the mirror, and I couldn’t recognize the person staring back at me. The person staring back at me wasn’t me, I refuse to believe that this was who I was. A pushover, a doormat, and a coward. Why? Why was it so hard to just love myself, to just be normal like the kids around me? Why am I the exception? Am I even special in the first place
I felt tears welling up in my eyes, and I clenched my fists in frustration. I didn’t want to be this person. I wanted to be the hero, the one who stood up for what was right and defended those who couldn’t defend themselves. But I knew that was a selfish wish; a hero wouldn’t think twice before doing what’s right. A hero wouldn’t freeze like an idiot when faced with someone needing help.
But how could I be that hero when I was so scared? Scared of being bullied, scared of being an outcast, scared of being rejected?
I might have spent a good ten minutes just crying, hot streams of tears flowing down my face. My mind went into overdrive, trying to come up with excuses to stop the tears but my heart was heavy and tired. It got to the point where my legs felt like giving out as well. As sad as I was, I was NOT touch a bathroom’s floor.
I splashed some water on my face, trying to calm myself down. I took a deep breath and tried to think about what I could do next. Coming back to my senses, I realized just how disgusting this bathroom smelled. I coughed a little and brought my hoodie up to my nose to block out the horrid smell. I ripped out a paper towel and cleaned off any signs that I was crying, and when I was done, I headed for the door.
As I was about to open the door, someone else opened it from the other side to my surprise. Before I knew it, I was face to face with a random dude. He took 1 good look and I saw his face turn a bright red.
“C-Crap, sorry!” he said. “I didn’t know this was the girl’s bathroom, I swear!”
My brain was still emotionally drained from my cryfest so it took me a while to register what was happening. I knew about my feminine features, long hair, and very long eyelashes; but come on. This was just taking it to a cartoonish level of absurdity.
“H-huh? No dude, you’re fine-“
“I’m not a pervert, I swear!”
Before I could even inform the poor teen of my actual gender, he ran away. I don’t mean he just walked very quickly away, I meant the man ran like he saw a bomb or something. This was something I had to deal with so I wasn’t particularly surprised, I just sighed and checked the time on my phone. I still had 2 minutes until lunch period ended.
Might as well just start heading to my next class I thought.
The school bell rang on cue and I immediately heard the sound of hundreds of teenagers coming my way. Not wanting to get caught in another wave again, I booked it.
I’d rather die in a house fire than be crushed under a pile of hormonal teenagers again.
