A Rough Start

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It's morning and I try to think of every possible way to get out of group therapy today but I know my mom is not going to budge. So I knew I had to go to dad. "Hey dad. Good Morning."

He looks up from his morning paper. "Hey honey bun. How are you?"

"Actually now that you asked I'm not feeling very well I have a pounding in my head and I think I might be getting a sore throat."

"Oh no! That's not good maybe you should stay home today."

"Yeah that sounds like-"

"What a minute isn't today Wednesday? Nice try Zoey but you are going to that group therapy session today and you are going to school understood?"

"But dad why?! What am I going to gain from this?"

"Sweetie we just want you to be safe." I roll my eyes and storm back upstairs. He doesn't get it. No one ever does.

******

How was I going to be able to survive group therapy? I barely to talk to people in general. It was just going to be a big waste of time. I don't even have any real friends here. Unless you count that girl with brown hair and Hazel eyes. There I go again with that boy! He probably already forgot about me and moved on but here I am doing the thing I always do. But there's something else about him. I feel like I know him but from where?  Never forgetting someone's words or a face, they always stick like glue. Ethan Tanner was walking toward me. Why would the school's perfect boy be walking up to me? There I go again with the stereotypes. Learning how to not judge people is going to be way harder than I thought.  "Hi it's Zoey right?" "Uhh... yeah who wants to know?" "I just wanted to know if you were doing ok and that there are always people at your side don't forget that." Then he walks away to with a smile as bright as day on his face. He didn't. I got my hopes up when I knew that in my heart he did it out of pity and I absolutely hate pity. I know he was just trying to be kind but it actually makes me feel worse.

I slam my locker shut and a folded up piece of paper fell out. Probably one of my scratch papers so I head over to throw it away. When it's written in pencil. I never write in pencil. My mind is telling me that someone put this in my locker to prank me and I shouldn't open it but my curiosity got the best of me. All it said was see you soon. What did that mean? I crumpled it up tossed it into the trash upset that I feel for it. Today was not going as planned. Everyone in the halls were staring and whispering the same old thing. At first I thought it was about the dumb note in my locker but It was about something else. I wished they were talking about that than this. "I heard that Zoey has to see a therapist because she tried to kill herself she's going to end up just like Samantha, who knows what happened to her. I think she's homeschooled so she won't hurt herself." Wow that was three years ago but people still talk about it like it was yesterday. I remember when it had just happened and no one could stop talking about it. It went on for months before it died down. It was like knife to my heart when I found out and I wasn't the first one to know. I guess I wasn't the only one who could really forget about it. I should've fought harder for her. I just don't know what I did wrong that made her not want to talk to me anymore. I clenched my fists as I take in deep breaths before I start a scene and do something stupid. I would never forget that day going to school  and leaving home worried that your best friend just might  die then she won't even see you and that's the last time you hear from her. Everyone at school was talking about. How Samantha Young tried to kill herself. The rumors was that she had bullied by someone and she was abused at home. I always went to her house and I knew for a fact it wasn't that but I did know about the bullying. There was this one boy that would always pick on her. If it wasn't about her hair it was alway something else.

"Why are you wearing pig tails when you're in the 6th grade? What are you five?"

Sam clenched her fist and bit her lip but she didn't say a word.

"And you're always wearing those leggings. This is what the fifth week now?"

His friends roared in laughter and I couldn't take it. There was no way I was going to let him talk to Sam like that.

"It's called a washing machine. Haven't you heard of one? I don't think you have because I think the polar bears in Antarctica can smell you." I waited for him to say nothing but he didn't so I took Sam's hand and left. But I always stood up for her so why didn't why she had hurt herself. Why she had stop talking to me.  It was ever since that day I stopped talking to people realizing things. They had no right to talk about me, Sam, or anyone like that. I wanted to go up to her and tell her how she should shut up but I knew that I wouldn't be able to say a word. Everyone says how high school is supposed to be the best four years of your life but honestly I just want to get out of here as soon as possible because I'm tired of not having a voice, I'm tired of lies.

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