The After Party

Bus Stop

     Groggily, I feel around to turn off my alarm clock, or rather hit the snooze button just once. I got enough hours worth of sleep but no one is ever really excited about waking up in the morning. Surprisingly enough I feel better about the incident I recently endured. I want to lay here and let the slithering bouts of depression that I can feel slithering into my body push me into a deep sleep. Fighting it by getting up now seems to be my only compromising option, since I know nothing will stop it. Checking the time I see that I have only thirty minutes to get ready and walk to my bus stop.

I am in a good enough mood to want to put a little effort into how I look today. Typically I dress as what Iyana calls a nerdy hipster. The part of me that is sad and longs for a stress relieving shower wants to throw on something I would work out in. The part of me that hopes dressing better will help me feel a little better wants to put on decent jeans and a cute shirt with some old flats. I think I will have to let that side win out.

Looking in the mirror I can't help but wonder if this is why it happened at all. Was it because I was dressed in a way that made it seem like I was a girl like that? Even if I was dressed in a provocative way what would that change? No one would feel the need to do that right? Couldn't they just ask or something. I have to stop putting my head up. I have to stop looking in the mirror now too because I feel the ashamed again. I have to take off the jeans and wear sweat pants instead. A baggy t-shirt will deter this from happening again – I'm sure of it. As I quickly go through the rest of my morning routine I wonder if this happened because I was not embarrassed to say that I was a virgin. Maybe the person only wanted a girl like that and I should have lied like so many others do. That could be a very real reason in how I cause all of this.

As I head downstairs for the door I find myself not being able to go through it. I did this yesterday, but now it almost feels like some bad ora surrounds that area now.

Kayla, sweetie you're going to be late get going. My mom says as she scurries by without even looking directly at me. Oddly I think this ordeal is helping me to take ease in that sense when it comes to my parent's treatment towards me. I don't respond instead I text Iyana. Hopefully she can make this easier. I feel too weak to be able to handle this on my own now.

To Iyana:

Hey girl you wanna come over and walk to the bus stop with me?

From Iyana:

Can't. I'll barely make it as it is. I'll catch you at the stop K babe?

To Iyana:

K

I don't like doing this, but I have to learn to be strong. I wasn't strong enough to do anything before so I have to figure something out now. I consider walking out the back door and around the front. I don't have the key for the screen door on it, so that would make it that much more complicated. I decide to go out of the door with the extremely bad ora and suck it up this time. It is easier to get down the stairs, but once the door is in site and a translucent replay takes place before me I run through it. I focus on just getting far enough up the driveway to where it doesn't matter and that's what I do.

On the bus to school Iyana sits next to one of her more popular friends. That's fine though we have our separate groups that we hang out with and right now I could use the extra thinking room. She does look back at me and smile. I put my best effort into looking as if I don't have a care in the world right as I smile back. As the girl next to her sits down I notice she has on a pair of really tight jeans low-rider jeans with sparkles and glitter all over it. This doesn't happen to someone like her though. This is not the type of thing I would ever want to put on someone else. This is not something anyone should have forced upon them. Maybe that's why it happened to someone like me, maybe it's because I do care. Nolan and Iyana sleep around like reality television characters and no one treats them this bad.