When I Crave Attention
I moved to a new state.
I go to a new school.
I have no friends, no enemies.
Bitter sweet, I guess.
When I finally strike a conversation with someone new, it only lasts a few moments. They have other, more important friends they haven't seen sense last school year. I'm stuck, sitting alone, not knowing what to do.
I feel like I'm speaking a different language in a school full of natives.
Nobody wants to know me, nobody cares to.
I'm not amazing to look at, I'm not extremely funny, or lovably quirky. I don't have emo problems.
I'm just normal.
I have straight brown hair, brown beady eyes. I have bad acne, and I forget to wash my hair sometimes. If I don't have blue or green hair, or if I don't wear studs, or high heels, nobody looks at me twice.
A week later, someone new comes to school. She has short, spikey, purple hair. She has around ten million piercings and even a tattoo on her arm. She wears tattered cloths, and smells like pot. She is a little too over the top. When people look back at her, it's to see if she's following you, gonna jump you and steal your wallet.
People talk to loudly about her at lunch.
She sits alone. She doesn't get partners for lab. She stays home for dances. She reminds me of myself....
One day, I sit with her at lunch. She doesn't say anything. Neither do I.
The next day, I sit with her again. This time she says "Hey."
"Hey..." I say. That's all we said that day.
The next day, I sit with her again, and ask her name. "Diana." she says. I smile. "Sydney." I respond.
The next day is fried chicken day. I hate fried chicken day, so I bring a bag lunch.
To my surprise, so did Diana.
A few weeks pass, and She's rubbed off on me. She's helped me with putting on makeup, she's told me about bands I should listen to, she shows me the cream she uses for her face.
I guess I rubbed off on her, too. She wears regular shoes, instead of her combat boots. She's letting her hair grow back to the natural black it is. She takes out a lot of her face piercings during school. She draws back on the black cloths.
Soon, we've created a nice mixture of both of our worlds. We spend a lot of time together. She's taught me to skate, I taught her to paint. Believe it or not, she's an extraordinary painter. We sit outside for lunch now, away from so many of those menacing eyes.
One day, something strange happened. A girl, from my class, came up to us, and asked if she could eat with us. We didn't want her to, and asked why. She sighed, and said "You guys are...really cool. "
Nowadays, we sit with a small crowd. A small crowd of good friends. When someone new comes to school, someone like me, or Diana, we invite them to our circle.
I go to a new school.
I have no friends, no enemies.
Bitter sweet, I guess.
When I finally strike a conversation with someone new, it only lasts a few moments. They have other, more important friends they haven't seen sense last school year. I'm stuck, sitting alone, not knowing what to do.
I feel like I'm speaking a different language in a school full of natives.
Nobody wants to know me, nobody cares to.
I'm not amazing to look at, I'm not extremely funny, or lovably quirky. I don't have emo problems.
I'm just normal.
I have straight brown hair, brown beady eyes. I have bad acne, and I forget to wash my hair sometimes. If I don't have blue or green hair, or if I don't wear studs, or high heels, nobody looks at me twice.
A week later, someone new comes to school. She has short, spikey, purple hair. She has around ten million piercings and even a tattoo on her arm. She wears tattered cloths, and smells like pot. She is a little too over the top. When people look back at her, it's to see if she's following you, gonna jump you and steal your wallet.
People talk to loudly about her at lunch.
She sits alone. She doesn't get partners for lab. She stays home for dances. She reminds me of myself....
One day, I sit with her at lunch. She doesn't say anything. Neither do I.
The next day, I sit with her again. This time she says "Hey."
"Hey..." I say. That's all we said that day.
The next day, I sit with her again, and ask her name. "Diana." she says. I smile. "Sydney." I respond.
The next day is fried chicken day. I hate fried chicken day, so I bring a bag lunch.
To my surprise, so did Diana.
A few weeks pass, and She's rubbed off on me. She's helped me with putting on makeup, she's told me about bands I should listen to, she shows me the cream she uses for her face.
I guess I rubbed off on her, too. She wears regular shoes, instead of her combat boots. She's letting her hair grow back to the natural black it is. She takes out a lot of her face piercings during school. She draws back on the black cloths.
Soon, we've created a nice mixture of both of our worlds. We spend a lot of time together. She's taught me to skate, I taught her to paint. Believe it or not, she's an extraordinary painter. We sit outside for lunch now, away from so many of those menacing eyes.
One day, something strange happened. A girl, from my class, came up to us, and asked if she could eat with us. We didn't want her to, and asked why. She sighed, and said "You guys are...really cool. "
Nowadays, we sit with a small crowd. A small crowd of good friends. When someone new comes to school, someone like me, or Diana, we invite them to our circle.