Here I am, the girl in black. Sitting in the front of the classroom. Far away from the other students laughing in their groups. I keep my head down as I do my work. In a small class of ten, I am the only one that sits alone. I am not the funny one, or the smart one, the athletic one, or even the pretty one. I’m just the odd one.
Here I am, the girl in black. Eating lunch in the stairwell. I don’t participate in gym class, and dread group projects. They don’t want to be around me. They don’t realize the feeling is mutual. They glance at me as I sit at my desk. They whisper horrible things, as if I cannot hear them. I keep my head down as they erupt in laughter.
Here I am, the girl in black. Walking down the hall. Every teacher’s disappointment. I never do my homework. Never pass my math tests. Never participate in class. Even they look at me strangely. I wear black. I must be depressed. Maybe I need professional help. It’s not normal to be so…different.
Here I am, the girl in black. Just trying to get through my day. I hear their whispers, and for a long time, I believe them. Am I weird, Am I scary, Am I ugly, Am I annoying? How could I not be? No boy will look at me. No girl will befriend me. No teacher can understand me. But it’s not my fault that I am so strange.
Here I am, the girl in black. Finished with school. I no longer care what my classmates think. I no longer care what my teachers say. I embrace the things that make me unique. I AM weird. I AM scary. I AM dark and unusual. These are the things that make them stare. These are the things that make them whisper. But these are the things I like most about myself. And that’s all that matters. I will forever be,
The girl in black.