Do you know what sucks the most? I do. Being alone. I have no one. Parents died a long time ago and no one even notices. I live in the same house. I have the same classes, everything is the same except for the small detail that my world has stopped. Every day I go to my new job I remember how I will be in this life for as long as I live. The blue collar girl next door, yup that's me. I should get some sort of award for being the most messed up teen on the block.

"Naomi! Are you paying attention?" my world lit teacher demanded sharply. I shock my head.

"Nope. Just wallowing in self pity. Please carry on though. I'll make more of an effort," and I topped my lie with a fake smile that I spent the year perfecting. My teacher bought my lie and I went back to zoning out.

"Naomi, can I see you for a second?" Mrs. Davis asked sweetly. She loves all of her kids and she has noticed my sharp fall in my GPA. "Honey what's wrong? You are a bright kid and this isn't you." I shrugged. She's right. It wasn't me, but I didn't have time to do my homework or study, so my grade was responding. Lovely, I know.

"Just struggling with my philosophy. You know, life's statement that makes you your unique self," I said with a smirked that my teacher took with disdain.

"Naomi, honey. I'm not joking here. I need to know what's wrong here so I can help. No collage is going to want a girl who won't put in the effort. They want the top students. You can be one, but you have to want it and you have to care." I looked at the floor, suddenly fascinated by the tiles. She was right, but I hated it. I hated to know that I can't go to collage. I hated to know that I can't be the amazing entrepreneur that I always wanted to be. I can't be "normal" per say. I hate it all. Every single little detail.

"Yes Mrs. Davis. I'm trying as best I can. I'll work on my uh... time management." The bell chose that moment to ring out and I gathered my books and did my best to extract myself from the room without offending Mrs. Davis.

I stopped by my locker and I dropped off all of my books before running out the front door, making sure that I had the note I forged this morning. I started to run faster and faster toward the play ground. I kept running when I reached my destination, swinging up on to the monkey bars and racing toward the stairs leading up to the slide and I plopped my self down and started crying. The tears came in torrents and I buried my head into my hands. This is my all time worst. It's terrible feeling this way. Dejected and unwanted. My tears lessened at this thought and how pathetic I sounded. I have to get my act together. No one else will make this all go away, so I stood up and ran toward my house. It's a run down shack that I pay rent on.

"Run run run little girl," I thought with cynicism as I took off into the desending night, the lonely orphan.
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