By: Ciara Harvey, Leila Dindyal & Kelli Gunning
“I cannot live with inside of me…” I listened to the last words of my favorite song and turned off my phone, strutting onto the field of my school. I was listening to such a great song: I’m In Here by Sia. It’s also funny because Sia is my nickname. My real name is Sierra Cornaccia. I got this nickname when my little sister started talking. When she tried to say my name, it came out as “Sia”. Everyone’s been calling me that ever since.
As I walked onto the dewy school yard, I noticed Sara Murphy. Ugh, Sara Murphy. Sara is always asking this thing that I have no idea about, probably because I never stick around to listen. She always seems so serious about it.What a weirdo.
Unfortunately, Sara saw me duck behind the bush and ran over to me. Her long blonde hair flew behind her in the wind. I gave up on hiding and stood up to face her.
“Sia!” she puffed when she approached me. “Sia, I seriously need to talk to you! PLEEEASE!”
I turned my back to her and walked quickly away from the girl, annoyed. I slipped on my headphones and put them on full blast. I wasn’t even sure if she was talking to me anymore. Who cares anyways? Sara was always so annoying and I always tried to stay away from her but that couldn’t happen. If I was going to the park she was going to the park, if I was going to a concert she was going to a concert!
I went to my first class which was math where Sara unfortunately sat her butt right beside me. Math was the worst. It was hard AND Sara had to sit beside me. I saw her hand glide from her desk to mine. A note. I looked at her and nodded, assuring her I would read it. I picked it up and set it on my lap as I ripped it into hundreds of pieces. I sprinkled the pieces of paper onto the ground like snowflakes and later blamed it on Sara for dropping it there. It was always hilarious to see Sara upset. Her face turned tomato red and she puffed out her lips.
“I DIDN’T DO IT MR CROME!” she yelled, grunting when she looked in my direction.
“Well it wasn’t anybody else was it?” he said.
“IT WAS SIERRA!” She moaned.
“Sierra wouldn’t do that” I heard him whisper. I was always a favourite which I loved. Sara was not.
“UGHHHHH” Sara stormed out of the room.
“I’m sorry Mr Crome, she just has a few anger issues…” I lied.
“Oh, thank you for telling me that Miss Cornaccia” he said happily.
Of course, Sara had to come back or else the secretary would chase her down no matter how long it took. Mr Crome turned to the board and wrote (-36)+(+56)=... Of course I didn’t know the answer but that didn’t matter. Teachers always favored me over everybody else.
A few minutes later Sara stomped into the classroom and avoided eye contact with Mr Crome. She sat next to me again.
“Why would you do that?” she whispered loudly. Everyone heard her.
My friend Leila looked back at me. I stuck my hand under my desk and made it into a sock puppet. It mouthed bla bla bla. She chuckled and turned back around.
For the rest of the class Sara focused on getting my attention but I just pretended like I was working but in the meantime I was just rubbing my pencil across my paper. I loved making Sara annoyed. Her sadness fed my joy.
At the end of the day I speed walked home, trying to avoid any encounters from Sara. I wouldn’t want to have to answer any of her dumb questions. I walked past house 121 then 123 and then my favourite song came on. “I’m in here, can anybody see me…” It was such a soothing song. I listened to it until my house came into view, 256 Harvey street. It was a medium sized house, it wasn’t small but it wasn’t a mansion either. It was the shape of the houses that little kids draw but with an extra triangular roof on the left side. My house was in front of a forest so we always got to wake up to nature. I never really realized it but my house was pretty beautiful. I bounced up the stone stairs, dancing to the music. “Sia!” I heard a squeaky voice yell through the window. It was my little sister Alia. The door unlocked and swung open and my mom was standing there, cradling Alia and bouncing her up and down.
“Hi Sierra, how was your day?” mom asked me.
“It was fine…” I paused, “but Sara,” I whispered.
“Who?” she asked.
“No one” I said shrugging it off. I shoved her aside and crawled up the hardwood stairs and to my bedroom. The picture of my dad on my dresser smiled up at me. He was holding my hand when I was just 3 years old. I was staring up at him and laughing. I really missed him. I wish he didn’t have to leave us. I always tried to block out the ideas of my dad because it only made me sad… and eventually made me mad. He walked out on us when i was 4. I remember asking where he was going and my mom said he was just going on a vacation. I believed her. I remember her with tears streaming down her face, she told me it was because she was eating onions. And once again, I believed her. But even though I was angry at my dad I always kept a photograph of him. Just because I was mad didn’t mean I didn’t love him.
That night I climbed into my bed and pulled the covers over my body and I realized how tired I was. My phone buzzed on my side table and I turned to see who had texted me. It was my dad. Once again, I ignored him. I’m not the kind of person to say everything that’s on my mind, otherwise he would know the hurt that I felt every time I saw the picture of him and I. Every time he texts me, my heart becomes cold towards him, and instead of feeling joyed that he has interest in me, I feel the anger of his betrayal. I don’t even know why he left my mother and I at the time. I dropped my phone onto the table and lay my head back on the pillow. That’s when I realized that two people are actually begging me for attention, but I always push them away. I laughed to myself. They’re both crazy people, and I always get an anger when I hear from them. Letting my exhaustion overtake me, I fell into the deepest sleep I’ve had in awhile.
And that’s when my story begins.
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