I felt shivers go down my back as I walked down this dusty and reeking hall way. I clutched my books tight to my chest like they were my prized possessions. I stared at the floor so I wouldn’t make any eye contact with anyone, but if I did it might be the last time I see the light of day. I walked down this hallway five days a week, and every single time it just got worse. Lockers slamming, people talking, teachers yelling, and the sound of sneakers sliding across the floor. I tried not to scream as all of this commotion was going on because if I did I could just very well be the next victim.

I saw a lot of things happen at my high school, some good and some bad. The good is that I saw people with bright faces and smiles so big they go from ear to ear. Unfortunately, the bad is really horrendous. People shouting, people with tears streaming down their faces like a waterfall, and people covering their faces with their books, trying to hide from the terrifying world that lies on the other side of their books.

I was very aware of all these things happening around me, and I wrote them down in my black and white composition notebook whenever I thought something was important. Once I saw a kid who looked depressed and had his hand over his stomach. He was watching all the other kids around him eat, wishing he too could have a scrumptious meal in front of him. But he soon looked away and whimpered when he saw nothing was sitting in front of him. A few moments later a boy came over and sat next to him and slid half of a sub in front of him. The boy soon lit up and had that huge smile that went from one ear to the next. They started to chat and soon became friends.

The little things went in my notebook because that’s really what makes a big difference in a person's life. The little things make you have that moment where you just smile. Some people made fun of me for writing things in my notebook, and they called me a freak whenever they saw me staring at them and not blinking for long periods of time, observing their actions. Sometimes they whispered things about me when I walked by them, like they thought I couldn’t hear them. They whispered things like, “That’s the abnormal kid, Emma.” Or they whispered, “That’s the kid who stares at everyone like we’re pieces of art.’’ You know the saying, sticks and stones may break your bones but words will never hurt you; well that’s one hundred percent false. Words do hurt, and they make you feel self-conscious. That’s why I always had my head down, staring at my feet. I felt like if I did then no one would notice me, and they’d just pretend like I was on a whole different planet. Sometimes that was more important to me than having someone notice me and taking a chance of them saying something mean.

When I reached my locker that was located in the freshmen wing, I threw off my backpack and coat and just shoved it all in my locker. I quickly took a hold of what I needed for my first core and slammed my locker shut. I rushed to home base to try to get there as quickly as I could so I didn’t have to run into anyone. When I was trying to get to my destination, just minding my own business, trying not to run into anyone, these seniors in high school rounded the corner of the building and just came running towards me like big, huge, bulls who had enormous horns sticking right out of their heads. They never slowed down. They were angry bulls who had just spotted the red flag. They came right for me and snagged my composition notebook right out the grasp of my hands.

“Hey, Jack, I wonder what’s inside?’’ asked one of the seniors.  

“Stop!” I murmured.

“What did you say? I couldn’t hear you; did you give me your consent to read it. Don’t mind if I do,’’ said one of the seniors, flipping through my notebook. He landed on this one page that was very private and was only supposed to be seen by my eyes.

“Quit it!” I bellowed, trying to reach for my notebook. I could see the composition notebook in the senior’s hand. I got ready to find the strength buried beneath me to jump and surge toward my notebook. I bent my knees and threw my hands backwards. I was going to reach my notebook. I let go of the fire that was heating up inside me and leaped into the air, soaring higher and higher, getting closer and closer. I was a hand length away from reaching my notebook, but the senior was one step ahead of me. He jerked the notebook out of my reach, and I came crashing down. I collapsed onto the ground, and the seniors started to laugh. My face got red, and my bones started to ache from the fall. I failed to obtain my composition notebook, and I was really starting to feel the waterworks trying to break through my eyelids. I pushed the tears back because I was not going to let them win. The seniors had just gotten started.

“The boy with the curly hair,’’ said the senior who started to read from my notebook, “was giving his food to his friend. The friend had no food to eat and was very thankful that he had a friend like the boy with the curly hair.” I kept fighting to get my notebook back, but I had no luck. The people in the hallway started to walk towards us, and they crowded around us really close. There were a lot of people, and they were just staring at me and giggling. None of them had the leadership or courage to help me get my notebook back and stand up to these bullies. This situation had me fuming. My face started to get red, and I started to gnash my teeth.

“Her face is the color of a tomato. It looks like she’s really furious, I think you should stop reading now,” offered one of the other seniors. He was right; I was mad, I had my hands in fists and I was ready to pounce at them like a cat with sharp claws.

“Nah, I just got started,” contended the senior holding my notebook.

“Please, stop, give it back!” I screamed, but it only caused more commotion.

The senior continued to read from my notebook, and this time he raised his voice for the whole crowd to hear, like they were all the way across the state.

The first bell rang, and the crowd dialed down a little bit, but the seniors were still standing right in front of me. I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t leave without my notebook, but somehow I had to get out of this messy situation.

Then, all of a sudden, I could hear a faint sound that was coming from the end of the hallway. I turned around, and I could see a person running towards me. I didn’t know what to do. Was he running to help me with the bullies or was he just late to class? I held onto the first thought of him coming to help me, but then that quickly faded, and I started to resign when he flew right passed me. But all of a sudden, a figure was running towards me again. I could see this person very clearly. He was a tall and skinny boy with brown and curly hair. He looked very familiar, and then I realized that he was the boy that gave his food to his friend. He then suddenly stopped right in front of the seniors, making a loud squeaking noise with his shoes in the process. He immediately reached up and snatched my notebook and then suddenly took off without even saying a single word.

“Hey, wait up, that’s my notebook!!” I yelled, running after him. He turned a corner and then headed up the stairs. It felt like I was playing tag, so I was really out of breath. The guy finally slowed down and he came to a full stop.

“Why, did you take, my notebook, and run?’’ I asked in between breaths.

“Wow, not even a thank you. I saved you from those bullies,’’ the guy said, not even breathing heavily.

“True, you did save me, so I guess that deserves a thank you. But you still made me chase you to get my notebook back,” I stated, a little frustrated.

“Yeah, I did, but only so the seniors won’t follow us,” he said with a very clever follow up.

“Okay, makes sense… can I have my notebook back now?” I asked.

“Only on one condition,’’ he said with a smile. “You make me an obligation that you sit with me at lunch.”

“Deal.”

When lunchtime came I looked for the guy with the curly hair that saved me from those seniors. It was really hard to find him because the lunch room was always so crowded, so it was like finding a needle in a haystack. Good thing he stood up and signaled me over to where he was sitting, because if he didn’t, it would have taken me hours to find him. I walked over with my head down because I knew that the word had spread about the seniors reading from my notebook like when the flu season comes along and suddenly no one is in school. Even with my head down I could still hear the whispers. I finally made my way over to the table, and I sat down with my hands over my ears.

“What are you doing?” asked the boy with the curly hair, tapping on my shoulder. I took my hands off my ears and looked at him.

“I’m using my hands to cover my ears to drown out all of the bad things that people are saying about me, and I’m trying to focus on the positive things. It’s kind of like how a race horse uses blinders to concentrate on the route it has to run.”

“Well that’s… interesting. Hey, can I ask you a question? Why didn’t you bring a lunch?” he asked, concerned. “It’s bad to skip meals.”

“I just forgot, it’s no big deal,” I asserted.

“Well it is, you can have some of my lunch, I insist,” he said, pushing half of his sub closer to me.

“Wow, thanks, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me before,” I announced, taking a bite of his turkey and cheese sub that tasted like heaven just erupted in my mouth.

“No problem,” he said as he took a bite of his sandwich.

“Hey, what’s your name?” I exclaimed.

“I’m Jack,” he responded. “What’s your name?” 

“I’m Emma,” I replied. 

After lunch I said goodbye to Jack and thanked him for sharing his meal, and then I went on with my day. 

When the school day was over it was time to head home. I walked out of the building with my head up high and not caring if I saw those seniors again. I was taking my time because my house wasn’t that far away, so I wasn’t in any rush. I found a bench that was on my way home, and I sat down and started to write. I wrote about all the little important things that happened that day, for I had a lot to say.

-Isabella Walsh