The Story After the End

It Begins

As I take a deep breath and open my eyes, I can feel it. Sorrow. I've never felt this way toward anything before. All my life, I've been a happy, outgoing kid, but never had I felt so much doubt and worry in myself. 

I stare at my feet as I begin shifting my weight as I take the first step towards the building. 

"Just keep your head down," I whisper to myself. I open the door and walk inside. Chaos is everywhere. Girls screaming about not seeing each other in forever, boys running up and down the halls, paper cut-outs of the school mascots covering the floor, and teachers roaming and watching students like hawks. 

I look at my schedule to see where I need to go first. Great, Mrs. Peterson, the most hated teacher of the whole school. She has a reputation for being a bitch and not giving a damn about her students, unless they are on the volleyball team. 

I begin walking towards the East side of the building as I suddenly feel something on my left shoulder. 

"Becca!" I yell as we hug, "Where have you been all summer?" I ask in jokingly devastated voice.

"I'm sorry, I was with my cousins in Minnesota," she all but complains but can't wipe the smile off her face.

"What is it?" I question suspiciously.

"You remember Rachel Mcqueen, right," she asks and I nod.

"Well, I've kinda been dating her," she exclaims happily.

"No way, that's awesome Becca, you deserve some happiness especially having to put up with me all day," I say laughing as I look at her schedule and sees that it is almost identical to mine.

"Looks like you are stuck with me for five hours a day and lunch," I tell her. 

We laugh as we walk down the hall. I was started to feel a little better until I spot them. My friends. Well, those who used to be my friends. 

It all started my junior year when I fell in love with a boy I had been best friends with all my life. He was everything a girl could ever want. However, one day he just stopped talking to me like I was nothing. 

I have to stop and turn around, knowing that if I don't, I'm going to have a full-on panic attack. 

"I can't do this," I tell Becca as I begin to run the other way. 

"Oh no you don't," she says as she grabs me and forces me to walk past my old friends.

Some laugh, some obviously ignore, and some don't even notice me. 

"Why do they have to be such jerks," Becca questions, "I don't get why you were ever friends with them."

"I honestly don't know, I thought they cared about me, but look where that got me," I say while rubbing my wrist trying to relieve some pain. 

We finally reach Mrs. Peterson's room when all hell breaks loose. 

To Be Continued...

(Should I continue this story?)