Resume of journal entry 4. Time stamp: 9:55:30AM

Among the fill of students walking through the halls, I too walk amongst them.

Fourth period flew by quickly, partly because I arrived there late. But walking slowly through an empty hall with nobody in sight feels nice. 

When I started passing through the not so quiet halls, only one thought came to mind.

Moving between classes is terrible. 

The constant pushing from every angle drives me crazy. The obnoxious whining from students going to class is the reason why I bring my headphones. And the slow group of students who talk more than they walk makes me want to push them aside, ignoring the social anxiety. It's terrible. Yet it gets even worse. Since the building is shared by 4 schools, my school could only use the second and part of the first floor. I know, it’s insane. But, as long as I can keep my peace and respect, then everything will be fine. I don’t need any drama or romance in my life. I’m fine the way I am.

Am I?

Walking my way down the flight of stairs, I started to wonder what am I really doing here in this school.

How did I end up here? I thought I would at least be accepted in a school closer to my house or a school with a better reputation. But why this one?

I don’t want to say that this school is pretty much for kids with low expectations, but after seeing how 90% of the students act, I can’t say that the expectations are high either.

“I wonder, how does it feel to be one of them?” I say, watching a guy talking to a group of people with no effort. 

I want friends. Oh I want them as much as I want to go home right now. But I don’t know how to make friends. I mean how do you even approach someone?

I think there’s just something wrong with me mentally, I say walking inside the cafeteria. 

I always imagine how I would approach someone to become their friend. In a specific scenario, I imagined myself walking to a classmate in English class and saying “what do you think about the class?”

...It sounds awkward and unrealistic. 

Who would even ask a question like that?

During most of my whole life, I’ve made the assumption that people won’t talk to me if they don’t want to be around me. And it’s been like that for a long time. So I’ve gotten used to being by myself, it’s nice and peaceful. There’s nobody expecting anything from me. All I have to do is go to school, listen to the teacher, pass the exams, and go home without the stress of having to talk to someone the next day. But it’s not because I don’t want to deal with talking with other people. It’s more so due to the fact I know I’ll regret talking with them. 

My way of talking is weird. And when I get passionate or emotional about a topic, I tend to raise my voice or talk too much. So when the realization of my actions hits my body, my heart has already begun the aches of pain.

Cheeseburgers and soggy fries will have to cut it. I thought, looking through the display of burgers and pizza in the kitchen. 

Walking down the line of dissatisfied students, I grabbed a carton of milk with a pear.

Now I have to find a place to sit.

For the past two weeks, I made it my mission to find a table where I can sit and make my permanent seat. But today, my so-called “permanent seat” was occupied by a kid with three lunches. 

Seriously? Where can I sit now?

Since I am a loner in a school lunchroom, I can find seats easily since most tables have an empty space. But, I also have to take into account how clean and loud the table is. Why, you ask? 

Well the last time that I didn’t, a group of guys I sat with spilled a milk carton on my food, destroying it all. Though it was an accident, it happened at the last 15 minutes of lunch, right when the kitchen closed off. 

"I’ll never forget how hungry I left school that day." I said.

The center of the cafeteria started to fill with noisy and reckless students, so I walked by the tables near the walls where other people like me try to find peace as well.

"I didn't know there were this many kids who separated from society" I say, watching all the tables being occupied by one singular person on each table.

I thought of taking my seat at one of the tables while going through my phone to ignore the person. But without a third person there, I would feel the situation would be a bit weird.

I'm thinking about it too much. I'll just sit here.

Placing my lunch tray down on the table, the guy at the table looked at me with a mad expression. 

Is he looking at me?

I partially froze while looking around myself to make sure he was looking at me. But after looking back at him, he was staring back at his phone without saying a word.

I don't think he wants me here, I thought while sitting down.

I didn't really care if he was weirded out or angry. It's a public cafeteria. I mean where else am I going to sit? Seriously, the nerve of some people to just show faces at others who are just trying to sit down and eat. Is it really that bad to have to share a table with a stranger? I don't know what people may think of me, but I always try to be someone that people could see and think "oh, he's a normal guy". I would be happy with that. I don't need any praise or to look better than others. I don't need anyone thinking I'm a menace to society or an elegant wanna be in a school that's ranked 58# in NY. I don't want my reputation to be ruined. I only have one chance to have a normal high school life, since I've already lost three precious years in middle school. As long as I keep my image safe, I won't care about the faces and disrespect thrown at me. 

After I finished my lunch, I stood up and started strapping my backpack on my shoulders. Since I wasn't planning on staying here.

Wow, I'm surprised the school lunch tasted really good. I thought, walking with my empty lunch tray to the trash bin.

When I threw my tray, I stood and looked around the cafeteria.

Where should I go? I still have 20 minutes before the next class.

As I finally scanned the whole cafeteria, I realized that there were two exits. The first exit was the one I used at the beginning of school after scanning my bag. The second one was on the opposite side of the first exit, which led to a different staircase.

Hmm, should I go explore a new staircase that could totally be filled with students smoking and drinking or take the safe option and go to the other staircase?

I looked at the first staircase and then the second staircase, trying to see if I should let curiosity or logic win.

"Oh what the heck, It shouldn't be that bad." I said with tension, while walking to the second exit.

Going through the doors, It was awfully quiet. There were still other classes in session and kids coming and going from the stairs, but it wasn't as loud as the other hallways and staircases. It was almost abandoned.

Am I allowed to be here? 

Reading the letter on the wall, the staircase I was currently in is staircase D. If I'm not mistaken, the staircase I usually use when exiting the cafeteria is staircase A.

So strange how this staircase is so eerie compared to the other.

As I made my way up, I noticed writings on the wall with part of the paint being scratched or torn. Many of the writings were either curse words or markings like "Verity was here" with a smile next to it. 

"What does that even mean?" I said.

To be honest, It was funny looking at all of the slang and messages that were scattered all over the walls. There were also sub comments to messages or phrases from other people. 

I swear, these kids be doing everything but finishing their assignments in class. I thought while reading a long paragraph, stating how our school should invest money for school lunch.

Seeing it, I couldn't help but smile. I wouldn't necessarily agree with it, but if there was a higher variety of options than processed burgers and pizza, they could have my vote.

When I was reaching the 2nd floor, the writings started to become less frequent. And as I was making my last step, one of the writings caught my eye. It said, "My life will end soon enough. There is no point in living a life of sorrow and grief. Since if I do, I let myself lose and my illness win. But nobody will care. My life is sad and despicable. No matter how hard I try to be someone I'm not, the fear of dying in pain or remembering I'm going to die one day still eats me away. Hence, I can't help but still be a depressing and unmotivated human walking this world without reason. Yet, I hope that maybe I can still live on. Maybe I can still roam a place where I can remember, even If it's impossible to overcome this condition I have. Maybe, I can live off of someone else. Like a parasite."

A part of me was very weirded out from finding this message. But the other part felt bad. Hearing someone else's story about their pain and suffering is a soft spot in my heart. I can't help but feel empathetic. But hearing about an illness and death upon a person who has little left to live is something that crushes my heart. I didn't know this person but their words spoke to me in a way that made me want to do everything in my power to help them out. But I don't know them.  I don't know which school they go to. I don't know if they're still in school. I don't know if they still feel this way… I don't know if they're still here. But in the small chance that this message was just written not too long ago, I took my bag off my shoulder and searched for a pen. 

After finding one, I sat down on the steps and started writing my message on the bottom of it. 

I'm not the best for giving advice. I'm very timid and unreliable in situations like these. I don't know whether to try to sooth the situation by telling part of my dramatic middle school life or tell them everything is going to be right. But I know at least for me, I don't want to hear words of confirmation or words of peace. I know if I were in a situation like this person, I would want someone to hug me. Or maybe I would want to hang out with someone who would distract me from my problems that make me depressed. Or just have a normal talk with them without having them feel pity or say nice things to me only because I have a few days left. I would want them to just hang out with me without pity, a genuine friendship.

And so with this, I wrote "Hi. I know you're going through something very hard. And it's something that not many people could understand what you're going through, not even me. But, I encourage you to not live your life in a facade. Being sad and expressing that sadness and anger is something very beautiful. Because we can let out that anger and express our feelings to others. There are others who will love you and care for you, whether you're crying in pain or cheerful for another day of school. So please, live your life the way you want it to go. Without the thoughts of anybody stopping your life. It's the way you want your life to go that makes yourself feel free. Don't be a sucker like me who lives life cautiously and lets social anxiety dictate my life. Live it well."

I won't lie, the ending does seem kinda cheesy, but sometimes people need to hear those words to finally snap out of the mentality that life isn't worth living anymore. 

If our life-span were ever cut to a few weeks, everyone would go crazy and start doing the things they should've done a while back. We don't value the time we have until it's almost up. And I do it as well, I'm aware of it. Still, when I see someone who knows they have limited time to live, but wastes it on being mopey and depressed. It makes me frustrated. Because when you choose your final moments to be crying in your bed, you'll die depressed. It's something I hate to see. So, cheesy or not, if it helps the person to finally live their life to the fullest, I won't care.

I just hope this message isn't a joke. 

I started to put my pen away while still staring at my message, wondering if it's good enough or not. 

And I hope they're still here to see it.

As I strapped my backpack on my shoulders, the door of the second floor started to open. I looked up in fear while trying to act like I was just walking past the writings.

Oh shit, don't tell me they saw.

As the person came fully inside the staircase, my legs almost buckled by muscle memory.

"It's you." I said.

Pause of journal entry 4. Time stamp: 10:21:28AM