It was late. Creeping around in these shadows would never get old. The swampy soil sucked my feet into its depths and before each step I had to wiggle them out. These paths, treacherous to anyone else, were ingrained in my soul. I knew each curve, each pothole, each stump. There was a sort of heart in this place, unknown to the world. It was why I kept coming back.
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       “Why are your clothes always so goddamned dirty?” She shrieked rushing into my room and taking my laundry, leaving a trail of chaos in her wake. I ignore her, like always. I can’t remember the last word I uttered to her. Was it goodmorning? Or maybe goodbye? Probably both. I laugh to myself. Does she really think doing my laundry will gain my love? Too bad there’s no love to gain.
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         The bus is early, but I’m ready. I have to get out here fifteen minutes early just in case. They forget my stop if I’m not already out here. Even then, I usually end up thumbing my way to school, but I don’t mind. The mystery and risk involved with hitchhiking fuels my soul with energy to get through the day to come.
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         I was friendless by choice, artistically-inclined by nature. I chose a long, long time ago to stay quiet and on the outside. This way you learn more about yourself, and less about the stupidity of high-schooler’s drama. I am not depressed. I am not bullied. I am not angry. I am just Me, and Me is quiet and refuses to share herself with the hideous society surrounding her.
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         School is school. We’ve all been there, we’ve all seen that. Get home, have a snack, do your homework. There is nothing special about being a high-schooler, there is nothing special about their routines. Don’t think too much about it, it’s not worth your time nor brain-power.

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         School is over and I am back. Back to the trails that make sense. Back to the home I was born to live in. Once again my shoes are filled grimy dirt and the crevices in my palms and arms are stuffed with souvenirs from the earth. I lay down in the four o’clock sun, taking slow, deep breaths as I make myself one with the trees and life around me.
Cough, cough!
Wait, what was that? Is someone else here? I push myself out of my calm state-of-mind and launch unto my feet. I have to figure out what that was. This is my place. I sneak to the area where I heard the human noise and see some broken branches and I quickly scale the closest tree to get a better look.
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       There better not be anyone here, this is my place.
But, wait.