Secrets. How long could we keep them? They were little ticking time bombs, ready to explode at all the wrong moments. We all have our secrets, some small and some big. My friends and I had a secret. One that tore us apart. We did not talk about it, in fact we did not even talk to each other anymore. The three of us used to be the best of friends.
I was drowning. The pressure of the water was unbearable. I had no air in my lungs, no way to breathe. I lifted my head out of the bathtub just as mum knocked on the door.
"Cassidy Hunter, you are going to be late for your first day!" She yelled through the wooden door.
It was my first day of year twelve. I should of been excited. I should of been jumping up and down at the thought of seeing everyone again but I wasn't. I had a secret. A secret that I could not tell anyone.
I had English first. I hated English. We were expected to write from our soul but why would I want to be graded on something that came from the soul? Reflecting on my past experiences, I had nothing suitable to write about.
The teacher told us to write what we were feeling but all I felt was numb. For the whole lesson I tried to think about sunshine and blooming flowers and all those supposably happy things. It didn't work. At the end of the lesson, I still got a disapproving shake of the head from my teacher. She pointed at my blank page.
"Miss Hunter, what is this?" Mrs Cobbler asked.
"Writers block." I replied.
She waved me away with her hand.
I used to be a good student. I used to get high B's. Now I was almost a fail. My teachers had tried to help me last year, not understanding my uncharacteristic behaviour. It's not like I wanted to fail, I could just never concentrate on the work.
I made my way to the hallway and towards my new locker. It was bothersome that the school always reassigned our lockers at the start of every year. A boy was putting his books away in the locker above mine. He was tall with broad shoulders. It was obvious as he frequently lifted his arm to run his fingers through his hair, that his shirt was a size too small. I assumed so it would cling to his skin to show his muscles.
A girl was standing next to him, chatting away. I watched as he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. I felt sick in the stomach as she giggled in delight. I looked away. Down the hallway I saw one of my old friends, Amy. She wore heavy black clothes and had gotten her arm tattooed. She had way too many piercings but it was obvious she didn't care what others thought. Amy was looking at the new couple as though it disgusted her. Our gazes met and she turned away, walking down the hall and shaking her head.
I waited patiently as the couple moved away from my locker and towards the cafeteria. The girl so eager for the ego-centric boy's attention used to be my friend as well. Her name was Emily. She wore bright, flowery clothes and added an extra bounce to every step. And as she kissed her new boyfriend, I looked away in revulsion.