Post by behindTHEmask on Nov 30, 2004 18:56:45 GMT -8
Amazing how things change so quick in one year. In the beginning, I imagined myself like everyone else; dropping school to start a life like an adult, as a mother. Half of my friends are at home right now, attending to their newborn child, while I’m here, preparing myself for the biggest step in my life, and they aren’t here to see my accomplishment.
Those kids, their kids, they took my best friends away from me. They’re needy, I know, but what about me? I need my friends just as much as they need their parents. I know it sounds selfish, but it’s the truth. I feel like I’m not all here.
I tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear as I watched the line sit down. Automatically, I sat with them. The cushion on the chair wasn’t much comfort; nothing was.
I drew attention to myself turning around, looking back into the audience. I squinted, scanning my optics over the crowd of thousands. It wasn’t easy looking for them, and even though I knew they weren’t there, I still had hope. It was the same hope I had on my fifth birthday when my mom told me dad was going to be there. He wasn’t and I knew he wouldn’t show up, but I still dreamed about it. I could see him breaking down the door, smiling that he made it. But I couldn’t find them. Not a trace, so I turned myself around, listening for my name.
I felt an elbow twist into my shoulder. “What the hell was that for? I’m paying attention, I swear I am.”
“GO!”<br>
I looked at the man standing behind the podium. He eyed me displeased. Jumping out of my seat, I quickly walked down the aisle way, an embarrassed grin was plastered on my face. I gave the man a look of apology; I didn’t mean to ruin the moment, my moment to shine.
I adjusted my cap, and straightened out my gown. The eyes of the audience were glued on me. I licked my upper lip, setting some note cards on the podium. For a second, I thought I heard a door slam, but I was only imagining it. It was time to step up to the plate.
“In life, you meet those people who open your eyes above and beyond anything seen in reality. They take you beneath their wing and guide you, forcing you to succeed the unimaginable. Maybe that’s how I ended up in front of all of you tonight. I wanted to prove my guides I could be strong, even if they broke down while teaching . . .”<br>
I could hear my voice echo off the paneling of the auditorium. This was the final time I’d see these walls. I was grown up, and being released into the world I’d yet to see. Everything would be different after I stepped out of the doors and on with my life. Everything was going to change.
My thoughts were disrupted by cheers. I must have finished my speech without knowing it. A warm touch hit my shoulder as I heard a mans voice announce, “And I present to you the class of 2004.”
Those kids, their kids, they took my best friends away from me. They’re needy, I know, but what about me? I need my friends just as much as they need their parents. I know it sounds selfish, but it’s the truth. I feel like I’m not all here.
I tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear as I watched the line sit down. Automatically, I sat with them. The cushion on the chair wasn’t much comfort; nothing was.
I drew attention to myself turning around, looking back into the audience. I squinted, scanning my optics over the crowd of thousands. It wasn’t easy looking for them, and even though I knew they weren’t there, I still had hope. It was the same hope I had on my fifth birthday when my mom told me dad was going to be there. He wasn’t and I knew he wouldn’t show up, but I still dreamed about it. I could see him breaking down the door, smiling that he made it. But I couldn’t find them. Not a trace, so I turned myself around, listening for my name.
I felt an elbow twist into my shoulder. “What the hell was that for? I’m paying attention, I swear I am.”
“GO!”<br>
I looked at the man standing behind the podium. He eyed me displeased. Jumping out of my seat, I quickly walked down the aisle way, an embarrassed grin was plastered on my face. I gave the man a look of apology; I didn’t mean to ruin the moment, my moment to shine.
I adjusted my cap, and straightened out my gown. The eyes of the audience were glued on me. I licked my upper lip, setting some note cards on the podium. For a second, I thought I heard a door slam, but I was only imagining it. It was time to step up to the plate.
“In life, you meet those people who open your eyes above and beyond anything seen in reality. They take you beneath their wing and guide you, forcing you to succeed the unimaginable. Maybe that’s how I ended up in front of all of you tonight. I wanted to prove my guides I could be strong, even if they broke down while teaching . . .”<br>
I could hear my voice echo off the paneling of the auditorium. This was the final time I’d see these walls. I was grown up, and being released into the world I’d yet to see. Everything would be different after I stepped out of the doors and on with my life. Everything was going to change.
My thoughts were disrupted by cheers. I must have finished my speech without knowing it. A warm touch hit my shoulder as I heard a mans voice announce, “And I present to you the class of 2004.”
