3TS: The Chances of Starting Again

Broken

Feb. 14 It was like looking at a mirror. A cracked and shattered mirror that was finally broken into something contorted.

Arlene left us. Then the rest of the students. Then the teachers. And even Juan's friends.

We were alone. But this was a totally different "alone" from when it was just Trent and me. This "alone" was more of a cat and mouse game. Juan was the cat. I was the mouse. A really scared, hopeless, and horrible mouse.

And like a mouse, I tried to remain quiet.

And like a cat, Juan was trying to pounce on me. He threw me the broom and the dustpan. "Clean this up. Janitors don't deserve to go to the dance. I'm sure you can handle a little dirt. You know how to clean up after yourself now, right? After all the "accidents" you've made, janitor. I mean, janitress..." He bowed cockily to me and turned away, wiping a scratch of blood that was probably on his face.

I shakily stood there. He insulted me right in front of my face. This went too far. I tightened my grip on the broom. "I am not a janitress. You have no right to call me-"

"What? What should I call you then? A screw-up? A nobody?" He was shouting. "Someone who messes up another's life? Someone who messes up m-my life?" I couldn't believe it, Journal. Juan actually stammered in his speech. And...was he crying? I couldn't tell for sure.

Astonished, I gazed up at him, seeing his shoulders shake, with his back still facing me.

"Juan-" I stuttered, but I couldn't finish.

He was quiet as he placed his hands in his pockets, still not bringing himself to turn around and face me. Journal, I couldn't believe that the boy in front of me was going soft. The one who hurt many students was finally breaking down himself.

Journal, this was probably bad. If it was bad for me. It was probably worse for a bully like him.

He stuttered as he whispered, "Do y-you know how many...fights have been started in my home o-over the...money that was lost over the stitches I had to get?" He choked on his own words, "I have been hiding my cut on my back for the longest time now. And it STILL pains me." He roughly rubbed his face, "And you know, from my very first fall. I sat in the hospital without even one of my parents next to me-" He choked up, but then gulped, "I wanted to make you miserable. To pay for everything that you have done. To me. To my life. But, I'm so tired of it now. Because whatever I do, you keep making me more and more miserable." I finally realized that tears were running down his face, "I'm so tired of it all. Just stop."

My mind whirled, my head grew warmer, and I could see my vision blur as tears welled up. "Juan, I...just c-can't. They're just mistakes that-"

"Well, then find a way to stop them!" He shouted. There was a pause in his voice as he lowered his tone to a whisper, "Are you just this bad luck that's always looking for a chance to pounce on me?"

He looked down and decided to walk away. Leaving me alone to clean. Leaving me alone to think. Leaving me alone to regret what I had done.

I didn't feel like dancing anymore, journal. There were so many thoughts of what I had done and what I should do that I picked myself up from the floor without a word. And, without a word, I made my way into the bathroom. And without a word, I exited the school's doors...in my school uniform.

There was no turning back now.

**

I wiped away my last few tears as I entered into my house, dropping my backpack to the floor. Realizing my mom wasn't home, I felt like crying again. Why was Juan doing this to me? He was messing with my brain...my heart...my soul.

Bad luck. Screw-up. Nobody.

Dragging myself into my bed, I turned my cellphone into silent mode, slipped into my blanket, and buried my tear-stained face in my pillow.

As the night slipped away, I could hear the vibrations of my phone as text messages flooded my phone. It was probably Arlene. Or mom.

What would I tell Arlene tomorrow, journal?

I didn't think twice. I was too distracted to sleep.

Finally turning off my phone, I threw my phone to hit the desk. It slid and dropped to the ground. Picking it up, a flash of silver caught my eye. I felt for the silver card that I had found on the street.

It reminded me of the mysterious woman I have been seeing in the corner of my eye for the past few months. The flash of sunlight that hit her sunglasses as she passed me or or walked away.

I placed it on my desk, staring at it as I fell asleep.