I am sitting in a gloomy stationery cupboard, hiding from the people I thought were my closest friends. I do not entirely understand how this has happened. Last week, we were sharing all of our darkest, deepest secrets amongst each other. This week, all of my secrets seem to be weapons that are being used against me. The secrets I hold close to me, no longer belong to me; they belong to the whole School. I have been exposed, my secrets broadcasted, now they are public knowledge.
Every time I scuff through the corridors, with my head buried into my neck, I feel claustrophobic from all the burning stares, the haunting whispers and the spine-chilling laughter. I want to go back to last week, when I felt happier and accepted. I do not want to feel like this, a reject, disowned, cast aside. I thought I had been a good friend, I never spoke of their secrets, I treated them as my own. What did I do so terribly wrong to deserve being made to feel like an outcast?
I can hear them banging on the sturdy cupboard door that I sit behind. They are yelling through the door, every drip of venom they spit, poisons me from inside, the toxicity slowly dissolving the person I once was. I am the shadow of my original confident self.
I am not opening this door and leaving my safe-haven, to become confronted with, what once were familiar faces. I do not recognise these snakes anymore, they are not who I thought they were.
© Copyright 2016 Zoe Ross. All rights reserved.
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