Day Seven

Day Seven.

I can't really remember the day

anymore. Overwhelmed by what I

learned tonight when I walked

into work. It changed everything.
How ironic that I was just

getting into the routine of it

all. Limping along, but still

moving at least if only at a

snail's pace. Wake up late, throw

together an outfit, keys, hot

chocolate, a blur of traffic,

cold cold leather seats. Teachers

meetings. Setup. Bells begin to

ring. Kids avalanche into my room

and it all begins.
Montreal.
I remember about him.
His poems are astounding. Dark,

sad, bitter, haunting. THe only

one in eighty-five kids who

doesn't go on and on about how

thier life is perfet and how they

are the coolest kid at school.
Apparently he's adopted,

recently. I know this is his

first year at CCS. I know he

comes from public school. I

didn't know that he watched his

father murder his little sister.
Murdered. Dead. A little girl,

killed by a man, and he had to

watch it. I can't even process

that kind of atrocity.... just

wow, wow, Montreal. Geeky, big-

glasses, always smiling but so

shyyyyy. His adopted mom wouldn't

let him bring his poem to class

because it talked about suicide.

They made him write something

more upbeat. I felt I disagreed.

He shouldn't have to pretend to

be like everyone else. Wrirint

those emotions can be a powerful

outlet. Sometimes it doesn't help

tho.... this whole blog feels

more and more like a waste of my

scantiful time. You're never

going to read any of this, are

you?
Empty words for an empty blog in

an empty world.
Why do writers write? I once

asked you so wistfully. So that

they can be read.....
And I will never be read.

I had a fight with Kari over my

spring break pass. Just when I

thought that I was done with

their crap, she called me in. "I

don't know these people," blah

blah. Because you have to know

every family friend of all the

students?! PUH-leeze. I'm over

21. I don't need parental

permission. Well, we are

requiring it anyway. JERKS. I

HATE THEM. Just try to stop me

from leaving this pathetic

campus.
Paid my fines.
Got out of there.
Ran into Michelle at the gym. She

was mad because some guy made fun

of her track record with

boyfriends. Well, it's true.

Someday she needs to face it. We

ran together and then I

suntanned, 5 minutes again. Took

a fast cool shower and gently

massaged in lotion. I felt so

good going into work......
.....and then I saw thier faces.
All the heartland girls, avoiding

me. Gabby finally spilled.
Levi has a girlfriend.
I remember when you threw the hot

chocolate on me, and Tia looked

at me and said, "There is another

girl. If not, just wait. The pain

you feel now is nothing compared

to that."
I didn't think she would ever be

right.
I remember what you said to me in

the West. Not looking to the

right or left. No girls.
You lied?
Okay.... I shouldn't really be so

shocked.... you've been lying for

months, to be honest. And if what

you say about the past two years

being a mistake, about Ukraine

being something you made up,

about every promise being fake,

then maybe it shouldn't surprise

me. Maybe there really was a

girl.
Mexican.
OF COURSE.
Brenda?
I know I'll never compete.
I'm not a graceful person... I'm

a 2am broken window, all the leap

days that never happened....
I walked around shocked,

literally like someone punched me

in the guts. Even Mary didn't

know what to say.
In PUBLIC?
In CHAPLE?
Is that who you were texting to?

Is that why you're "alone"? So

that you're "available"? Hav eyou

two been hanigng out at

Walmart??? Is your hard work

there really a big lie??? When

did it start???
THe pain... blsitering,

scorching.... violent.

No, no, no.