The antique bed croaked an intolerable screech with each movement as I tossed and turned out of pure discomfort. Frequently, I undertook a new position and with each one an unharmonious cry pervaded the still night. The noise accumulated to create a cacophony of high pitched creaks that crept into every nook and cranny of the home, piercing the silence. Those late evenings finally took its toll; I could no longer fall asleep so effortlessly at an acceptable time. The thought of having to wake up early for the first time in months, plagued my anxious mind and only added to the displeasure. Nobody was ready for summer to end; not my friends, not my teachers, and especially not me. However, little did I know, this day would forever alter my perspective of both others and of life in general.
When the clock struck half past five, the earsplitting sound of an alarm blared out on the wooden night stand beside me, combining with the creaks to prolong a night of agitation. Startled, I cuffed my face and ears with a pillow in attempt to muffle the impossible sound. Year after year of using the same tone to be woken up with inevitably conditioned me to immediately cringe, even at the faintest sound of it. Wrinkles dispersed across my face while an expression of distaste formed beneath the pillow. Grudgingly, I rolled out of bed and toddled to the bathroom down the hall. I flipped the cold light switch and gazed into the honest mirror, revealing clear evidence of a restless night. Dull skin and distinguished dark under eyes soiled a young face. After a moment, I mustered up energy and began to prepare for a long day ahead.
A majority of the morning was consumed by efforts to attain a presentable image. A sheer layer of liquid foundation and concealer hid minor imperfections, creating an allusion of a well-rested teen. My fingers fought through a head of knotted strands, struggling to tame a nest of disheveled hair. When I finally concluded that it could not possibly get any better, I hurried to throw on an outfit reserved specifically for this day, grabbed my book bag, and rushed into the passenger seat of my sister’s 2001 Nissan Pathfinder. As the car rolled off the driveway, I stared out the windows into the eyes of a scene that was rarely given any credit- an incredible Arizona morning. I gazed in admiration as Mother Nature painted a gradient of yellow to orange to purple to blue, like a masterpiece in the cloudless sky. The radiant sun above enhanced the hue of native plants and drew out their sweet and distinct aromas. Arizona’s view calmed my itching nerves as it distracted me for a while. However, my attention was stolen, whether I liked it or not, by a loud chugging sound as the car came to an abrupt stop. I glanced out the window and warily slid out of the car. I inhaled a deep calming breath, and walked into the gates toward my very first day of high school.
Nervous as ever, a rush of clashing emotions attacked me as I began to take in the unfamiliar scene. Tall buildings towered above me, making my antics even antsier. Students huddled together in distinct groups across campus; they stuck to one another like independence didn’t exist and as if a posse was needed to function properly. Obnoxious boys and girls naturally flocked together, as soft music weaved through the campus halls from morning band practice on the football field. This was high school I thought, a place where students of contrasting personalities, cultures, and interests, are expected to work in harmony regardless of what differences they may have. There I stood, barely within the gates, confused as to where my I belonged if I did at all. I was only thankful to be able to experience the next four years with five of my best friends. Or so I thought. By the end of that year, my group of friends would have dwindled down to just two.
Suddenly, an irritating bell rang out to signal first period. The students diffused throughout the campus, rushing to class in that sort of urgency that came along with every first day. Everyone rudely banged and clashed into one another, unmindfully traveling into opposing hallway traffic. Suddenly, a boy nearly twice my height rammed into my fragile body. He looked down into my eyes with a guiltless face. I tried to flash him an effortless smile to show that I did not mind, but he continued on without even the simplest apology. When I finally arrived to class, the door flew open in a swiftness that caught me off guard. It sandwiched my delicate fingers between the steel knob and pasty wall, as a slender blonde upperclassman appeared from behind the door in dire search of a bathroom; no apology was given. I disguised the pain within my numb fingers with a calm smirk and walked into the classroom to take a seat. A boy, who had secretly witnessed both incidents, leaned over my shoulder. “Why are you so nice to those who treat you with no respect?” he inquired. For a while, I did not know the answer myself.
Throughout lunch, I contemplated the question that was asked of me by the mysterious boy. As my eyes drifted aimlessly across the lunchroom, I finally stumbled upon the answer. I looked at the boy who had bumped into me without acknowledging his wrong; his head was on the lunch table. I knew he played in the band, and had to be at school early for practice. Maybe he was too tired to care to say anything when he bumped into me this morning. I looked at the girl who was in such a haste to find a bathroom; her mascara was smudging below her eyes and down her cheeks. I knew she had just recently experienced a terrible break up with her boyfriend, and I wondered how horrible it must be to have everyone concerned in your business. Then there was the boy who everyone thought was an absolute jerk. I saw the striking scars on his wrist, and could not begin to imagine how unhappy he must be. I looked at these people and realized that they had their own struggles to endure- their own battles to fight. Regardless of who a person may be, being a teenager is tough and the last thing I wanted to do was add to their troubles. If putting up with minor mistreatment did anything to help their situations, I was willing to do whatever I could.