Graduation
I stood tall I as I gazed at myself in the mirror. I smiled at my reflection as I took the dark rollers out of my hair. I combed through the dark brown curls to give my hair more body. I put my newly manicure toes into my white sandals carefully, afraid of ruining the elaborate design I added this morning. Then eagerly but carefully placed my white gown and cap on. I looked everything over and grinned again pleased how everything turned out.
My mother and grandmother had taken extra time to prepare as well. They both came out of the rooms wearing long flowing skirts of green and blue. Their hair filled with curls. I looked around for my dad and brother anxiously but remembered they had to pick up grandfather from the hotel. My mother and grandmother insisted there was no time to wait for them but will meet them there. They barely spoke a word on the way to the school. Maybe it was out of fear they would burst out into tears on this wondrous occasion. When we arrived at the parking it was already crowded with cars, optimistic teenagers, and overjoyed parents. My mother and grandmother finally were able to find an empty space. They parked the car and I ran out to fall in line with the others.

Fellow students greeted each other with respect and admiration, which was so strange. Passing parents beam at us with sparkling eyes some from tears others with pride. The band instructor struck up the band and we began to march in a line of fours to our seats. The hot sun beamed down on us like a spot light for we were completing our final act. After the speeches the classes began to be filled with excitement for it was time for the names. For each name that was called classmates still continue to beam, cheer, and clap for each other showing un-denying support. My body had begun to tense up as the Superintendent would soon call me. “Arielle Manning” announced the speaker finally. I stood up with great pride and grace and floated my way to the stage and up the steps. I walked up and graved the roll of piece of paper and shook the superintendent’s hand. As I looked out to my fellow students whose smiles seem to glisten in the sunlight. I felt numb. I thought to myself this was all a lie. “Where were the cold hearted delinquents I went to school with?”
“Why are we all pretending to get along on this particular day?” Most of these people pretended I did not exist. Half of these people torture me for four years but now they want to clap for me and shed tears like they were going to miss me. Like they really knew me and actually accepted me. Christine with here long curled brown hair and dazzling white teeth yelled out “go gurl”! My mind flashed back to the moment where she screamed at me because she thought I said her name wrong. “My name is Christine! Not Christina or Christiana, Its Christine damnit”.
As I came walking down the steps Carter a tall, lean, athletic boy with blonde hair held out his hand for a half five. I thought about all those times he did not speak to me in front of others. In fact at all cost he avoided me. I remembered when I waved furiously at him at a basketball game and he looked right at me and looked away. When I brought this to his attention he replied with “you were too short for me to see but you know next time”. Like always there was no next time. I guess I was only his friend in the class room because he always saw me when he needed a homework assignment or help on a project.
Zach gave me a bright smile and thumbs up. Zach was a very exceptional young man. He would always dazzle me with his ideas and thoughts. He was always very kind and warm hearted in front of others. His bright and overjoyed face only reminded how he busted out into laughter when I asked him out. His response was a cold “as if” after laughing. For weeks he would stop and stare and whisper snide comments to his friends causing me much pain and humiliation.
These were only some of the many stories that my mind floated back to when seeing there overjoyed and glowing faces, but I played along with their charade anyway. Truth is we spent four years hosting a civil war, bombarded each other with rumors, shanked each other with harsh lies, and fired bullets of insults to each other in the hall ways. Not enough dodging, duck and cover methods and compromises could help me protect myself. I was one of the lucky ones because I made it out of this civil war despite the casualties. Only time could heal those emotional and mental wounds.
As I continue to walk to my seat I thought to myself “Was graduation the peace conference and my diploma the sign peace treaty for the stop of the war?” We all were wearing white gowns, which was the color for surrender. What idealistic person came up with the idea of sticking a large group of emotional and hormonal people into the same building for four years? I will never truly understand. Whoever came up with the idea obviously did not have to endure it.
After all the playing along was done, sending hugs all around, wishing each other good fortunes and luck, and had wiped tears from each other’s swollen red eyes. My friend Katrina a tall girl with brown skin and long flowing black hair gave me a tight hug. With a bit of sadness in her voice she asked “Aren’t you going to miss high school?” I paused for a moment and I could not help but think about all those times people bombarded me with harsh words, isolated me with their stares, and not one person stood up for me…. Not one. I simply smiled, wiping away a tear from my eye, “No its time for me to close and lock this door. In fact, opening this door in ten years would almost be too soon…..”