Celeste’s POV
I feel very ready for the new school year to start. I’ve been feeling a lot of resentment and anger toward my dad for not realizing that something is going on. For not realizing how his wife has been treating me. Kat, Dad and Maggie and i went on a trip to Las Vegas. It was actually pretty nice, because since dad was usually around Maggie didn’t have the nerve to still abuse me. There were just a few times dad wasn’t with her. Kat and I would just always avoid her wherever she was. We were good at making it seem like we didn’t notice she was there, so it seemed like a coincidence that we always left when she was around. The only problem really was that it was annoying to be around Maggie and my dad. Seeing them act like a couple was really fucking annoying, I hate seeing him love her while he doesn’t know how she treats me.
I walk into my new homeroom. I realize everyone except Kat is way older than me in this new homeroom. I instantly feel self conscious. They all seem like “cool” people too.
We have the teacher Dante had last year, Mr. Andrew. He talks about the kind of stuff we’ll be doing in this homeroom, poetry, short stories, etc. I’m really happy about it. He’s talking about directions for some sort of activity he’ll have us do, but I don’t really listen. It’s hard to focus when I’m in a new classroom with people I don’t really know and they’re all older. Then suddenly he hands out booklets to each of us, I think they’re filled with projects previous students did. I try to look like I’m looking through the booklet that’s handed to me, but I’m really not focusing on it because I can’t focus right now. Then the guy sitting behind me passes his book to me… what am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to hand the book I’m reading to him? Am I gonna look stupid to him because I’m not doing anything? I feel like I’m like Skyler right now, stressing so much about what people think of me. Skyler would probably be freaking out more. I discreetly text Kat and frantically ask her what I’m supposed to do. She tells me to pass the book I was looking at to her. I watch as everyone in the class is passing books to each other, and I don’t really understand how the pattern goes. I just keep passing the booklets to Kat when one is passed to me, hoping that I look like I know what I’m doing. For a split second I wish I wasn’t here, then remember that I could be somewhere worse. I could be at home.
After we’re done with that, the teacher goes over our first poetry assignment. We’re given a set of vocabulary words. The one that stands out to me is antithesis. We’re supposed to use our favorite word in a poem. I don’t really have any ideas for what to write in my poem, but I know I wanna use the word antithesis. It means opposite, so I just have to use two important things that are opposites to me.
The next two classes, math and biology, go much more smoothly. They’re just introductions since it’s the first day of school. At lunch, I start telling my friends what happened.
“We were given these booklets, I think they were collections of projects students previously made. I was really not focused because I was anxious being around new people”, Skyler nods in understanding when I say that, because they would feel that way too. “Then suddenly, the person behind me passed his booklet to me, and I started panicking because I didn’t know who I was supposed to pass mine to” I explain
“I would wanna die” Skyler says
“Nobody is gonna remember that that happened, Celeste. It really doesn’t matter” Kat says
At 5th period, we have to put together brief presentations with pictures that represent who we are. I decide to put together pictures of my art. I put the picture of me and my friends that I drew in the center of it. Everyone finishes the presentations surprisingly quickly, so the teacher lets some of us present.
“Woah, you drew that?” A kid named Josh says. He’s actually the one who sat behind me in ELA this morning. It’s nice for him to be impressed by something I made after I embarrassed myself in front of him.
I get a lot more compliments and love and appreciation for my work. It makes me feel really good about myself. Everyone actually already knew that I was talented now that I think about it, because we performed in the music talent show. They just didn’t know I could draw too. I feel like I’m actually someone. My friends have always said they love my drawings too, but I haven’t shown it to anyone other than them.
After school, when I get home I take a shower right away. Then when I get out, I see Maggie looking at my computer for some reason.
“Why are you looking at my computer?” I say
“I needed to google something and I didn’t know where my computer was. What the hell is this?” She says as she turns the screen towards me. It’s open on my presentation, filled with my drawings
“Those are private, stop looking at them.” I respond. Maggie never saw my drawings, I’ve actively kept them hidden because I know she’d insult them.
“Do you expect to make a living with this shit?” She says
“I actually am gonna be in a band with my friends” I respond
“Well, I don’t think you’d be good at that either, but at least you’re not planning to make a career out of this”
“What do you know about art? Here, show me what you can do, if you really think you’re some fucking picasso” I say as I aggressively hand her a sketchbook and pencil
“Don’t talk to me that way, little bitch!” She shouts back at me as she slaps me in the face
I run away sobbing. I don’t know why I try to stand up to her now. Not too long ago I realized that I’m helpless and standing up to her doesn’t do anything. It makes her more mad in fact. I guess I just can’t get rid of the urge to say what I really think anymore, even if all it does is get me hurt again. I run to the bathroom and aggressively wash my face. I’ve started washing my skin after she hits it. I just don’t want the molecules from her dirty hands to be on me anymore. I grab a melatonin jar and am about to take five melatonins when I realize something. I know what I should write my poem about. I know how it should go.
“Antithesis
There is a girl who,
Unlike everyone else,
Feels more at home at school
At school, she is loved
Or at the very least left alone
Never bothered
Her peers think her art is cool
She gets to spend time with her friends
Who love her dearly
At school all she gets is love,
Or the luxury of silence
Being left alone
But home, home is the antithesis of this
She is berated
She’s hated
There is no silence
Only noise
And negative self esteem”
I almost add at the end that one of my beloved best friends happens to live with me, making my home life just the slightest bit easier. But that might make it too obvious that it’s about me because everyone knows Kat lives with me. The teacher will inevitably ask if I’m ok after reading this, so I have to at least make it a little less obvious that it is about me and that I’m not ok
Broken Minds 