The 13th Girl

Tomorrow’s my first day at the new college. I don’t know if I should be happy about that or should I grieve, I’m at a loss.  It seems like the best option for me is not to care, like at all. I’m trying to, very hard. I’ll meet my new group mates, and they will meet me. For them I will be nothing but a new girl, or the 13th girl. They know nothing about me. And I have decided not to tell them anything about who I am, nothing about my disturbing past. Only the obvious details they won’t fail to notice. The facts that  I’m 2 years older, not straight-out-of-school, a little rigid, seasoned and unwilling to open up to the society. I don’t want to appear smarter, yet I don’t want to appear stupid. But I can’t keep from doing anything stupid. So I can’t predict how it will turn out this time. I can only hope.

I can’t explain it but I’m afraid. Of everything that’s going to happen tomorrow. The bus trip,  students, teachers… I know it’s silly and I shouldn’t be, but I always have a hard time adjusting to everything that’s new. It all gives me the shakes. I’ll hardly even be able to sleep this night.

Still  no matter what, I’ll never take them seriously, like the previous ones. I’ll never catch that sincere look in their eyes, and they will never sit next to me listening carefully to my stories. Together we’ll never make a whole unit. So enormous will be the emotional distance. And just thinking about that, the sole anticipation makes me miss my old group mates a lot. The inability to stay in touch makes me want to cry. They just weren’t worth losing. At least they didn’t mock me. Did they understand? I don’t know. But they made me feel like they did. Made me forget the ugly fighting back. Will the new ones make me remember?

All these pictures I’m drawing in my mind. Common sense leads me to think I won’t avoid coming across as the unfortunate one. Me, the one that got kicked out of  college, for reasons I desperately try to hide, now sheltering next to them,  a poor ghost roaming from place to place, what could be more miserable? I wish I could go out in front of them, blindfolded, and  say, fuck you all, right in their faces. You just  don’t realize how much I hate to have to get to know you.