or when the school is full of people.
open house meant speaking to teachers and speaking to teachers meant either saying hi to the ones i knew or trying to make a good impression on the new ones.
since i was alone, i made sure to keep my friend with me so i wouldn't panic. it was practically a necessity.
nevertheless, i was wringing my hands as if to drain them of the nerves. it didn't work.
i tried everything i knew how to do to combat the parts of me that i hated so much, the parts that were bad and broken, from the façade of exuberance to the taking moments to be alone. nothing helped.
my knuckles hurt by the end of my stay after being twisted and pulled and popped from the endless anxiety.
YOU ARE READING
Smart Girl
Non-Fictionthoughts from the smart girl. //the journal of wren// //highest rank #2 in non fiction// //all names of real people interacted with here are altered from their original versions for privacy's sake//
