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I am currently sitting in one of C Building's bathroom stalls trying to not cry. Sadness has made itself a nest deep within me. I can feel it deep in my stomach, heavy like a stone. It drags down my limbs. It drains me.

Then a piece of the sadness stone breaks off and lodges itself in the middle of my throat. I can't seem to swallow the smooth stone no matter how hard I try. The deep breaths try to keep it at bay. They try to push it down. Further down into its original pit.

A deep breath goes in as I stand up and stare at the penciled-in graffiti in front of me. The deep breath goes out as I stand there and hope to God my mascara isn't a running mess. As quietly as possible, I unlatch the stall's janky, slightly rusted lock. I take a tentative step out the stall and scan the empty room.

I step up to the mirror and sink closest to the entrance/exit. The second I look at my pathetic-looking self, the sadness stone swells and anchors down on my heart as well, leaving my chest feeling very heavy to the point of pain. My hands grip the sides of the sink. I have an urge to suddenly develop super-strength and rip off the sink from the wall.

But I don't.

I only swallow the sadness and wipe away the two stray tears. I compose myself and straighten my back. After a deep sigh, I walk back to my class. The rest of the period was spent staring off into space with a dull ache in my chest.

I try to push past it all. I try to shove aside the barriers keeping me in that pit, but I can't seem to make any progress. No matter what, I'm still at the bottom of it. How am I going to get out of this?

No amount of force will make the tip of my pen glide across the pre-made college resume I had to fill out. My limbs felt too heavy to allow my fingers to lift themselves and type out the final draft of my mini-essay. Only a blank space filled my thoughts as I attempted to come up with what personal feat makes me proud.

Like a zombie, I mindlessly walked to the cafeteria at the sound of the lunch bell. I ate crackers in silence in Major James's room while he sat at his desk typing away at his computer. Before I knew it, I shuffled back to class and continued to fail at making myself work.

Snippets of conversations around me echoed. Talk of Ivy League schools and high ACT scores. MIT and acceptance rates. Career options and goals. Everything I was tired of hearing but I couldn't even get myself to untangle my headphones.

Somehow, I still end up sitting secluded in a full class. I barely speak a word for the whole 90 minutes. I had been so deep in my abyss of a mind that I didn't even realize the bell had rung. I'm the last to leave.

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