A Stellar Flare of Young Adult Writing and Visual Art


dextrose hanging on stainless steel IV stand



A 5’ 9’’ high school girl walked through the hallways. She had headphones, jeans, a tank top, and a jacket on. She liked rap, horror movies, junk food, Netflix, and hanging out with friends. She liked a boy, a boy who didn’t even know her name. She argued with her parents and thought the world was against her. She thought that she was an independent person, and didn’t need anything from anyone. But deep down she depended on anyone who would let her. She thought she had her entire life figured out, and that the things she did weren’t hurting anybody. That every mistake she made was no big deal. She never did her homework, she hated class, and her grades sucked. She had Snapchat, Instagram, and texted people she didn’t know. She dyed her hair, she painted her nails, she couldn’t save money for anything in the world. She thought about running away to the only place she ever felt insanely happy. She was forced to go to church, and she always wanted to get out of the house.

And nothing, nothing about this girl is special. Nothing about her is different, nothing about her is unique. There is not one quality she possesses that most of you don’t identify with. You see this semi-emo looking girl walking down the hallway and look the other way. Because why would you keep looking? There’s nothing to see there. Nobody smiled at her and said hello. No one asked how she was. No one asked her if there was a reason why she never came back to class or why her eyes were all red.

Basic teenager. Basic problems. Basic meaningless emotions that were under no circumstances warranted. What girl hasn’t been left by her best friend, or dumped, or called fat, or had a rumor spread about her that she was easy? What person in the entire universe hasn’t had a fight with their parents? Her problems were basic things everyone has gone through.

Nobody knew that the reason that the bruises on her cheek were not because she fell down while playing soccer, or that she hadn’t already eaten lunch. They didn’t know the reason she shaved all her hair off randomly one day, or why she never ever came to first period. They never even noticed until she became famous. Once she hit the ground and had to be connected to an IV, did they post things on their stories or spam accounts about how much they loved and cared about her.

A question that is asked a lot, but is usually never answered- why? Why did she get so sad when no one snapped her telling her that she was important, or hugged her when she was down. Or why no one cared about her small minuscule problems. Because the gravity of the problem was never important. It didn’t matter if it was as small as leaving her notebook at home, or as big as being left by someone who promised they never would. All that mattered was that she was drowning and no one noticed.

Maybe if someone would have walked with her in the hallway, she would have eaten her meals. Maybe if someone would have asked her why her eyes were red, she would have gone to school.

And maybe she wouldn’t have gotten in the car that night if she had someone to tell her
not to.

About the Author

There is too much of too little time in this life for them to waste it. Rory wants everyone to know how much every second of time in your life is worth more than you know. They want you to know you are too.

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This entry was posted on March 2, 2021 by in Fiction and tagged , , .
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