Big is an understatement when describing the sky. Big is a word used in means of comparison and relativity when referring to objects that exist. And to think, the portion of the sky that our filtered and handicapped human eyes see is hardly a fraction of what exists. Wow. 'Wow' is also an understatement. Strange how human language has been around so long, but there is still not a word suitable to describe the size of the universe. That's above the level we neanderthals are at. We only have words for the basic objects we encounter and a few adjectives to describe them. Ugh. Its so annoying how my mind goes from exploring the cosmos to thinking about language. I was laying in the damp evening lawn on my back, facing the night sky. This was an activity I often partook in, as it was a good way to let my existential mind out to run around a bit before it had to be chained back in to meet 'reality'. This is what we call every day life where there is no point in wondering about the universe because your chores need to be done. I sighed. It was so nice to be surrounded by the clean night air with crickets chirping a peaceful white noise, and don't get me started on how the nighttime atmosphere smells. The best way to explain it is if serenity had a scent. Finally feeling at peace with my mind and my head heavy with fatigue, I gradually stood up to go to bed. My watch read 12:18am. Good thing it's a weekend, Mom and Dad would never allow me to stay up this late on a school night. Not that I would tell them.
The next morning, I awoke to the sound of my mother calling out a reminder that I had a big swim meet today. I'd forgotten about that. I quickly locked my door and pulled off the faded black sweater and jeans I had been wearing to change into something cooler, as it was one of those days when spring tries to be warmer than summer, and nobody likes it. I decided on a baby blue tank and white shorts because those colors probably would make me look less dull than I actually felt at the moment. I threw my medium length dark brown hair into a ponytail after halfheartedly brushing it and yawned down a flight of stairs for breakfast. This consisted of a lot of reminding from parents and nodding from me. Then it was off to my swim meet, which was 3 hours away by car, and knowing my parents would only repeat their ideas from breakfast, I decided to mostly just listen to music the whole time. I really like Twenty Øne Piløts (TØP), so that was my obvious choice.
My life was pretty dull at this point, so it seems like a good time to introduce myself. I'm Colette Green, a swimmer. I seek companionship so I can share this existence with another who understands me, not just a friend with good intentions and enjoyable presence. Not that best friends don't exist, they are definitely valid for those lucky enough to find them.
Anyway, that day proceeded as normal, hearing the buzzer, attempting to cut through the water, ignoring the burning pain in my chest, knowing it can soon be replaced by whatever drugs are in my inhaler, winning third place in my event, therefore slightly disappointing my parents who think it's alright to judge someone based on how quickly they move in water and comparing them to other adolecents who can move through the water sightly faster. Good times. I returned home as per usual; this was a school night, so I got to bed as soon as I could after completing my homework.
6:24. My alarm went off at this time exactly, reminding me that I am just a product of the government, being forced to grow up at a set rate through the education system, regardless of how I naturally mature. It'll be exactly like this for two more years, until my parents take over and put me through college to become beneficial to this nation. Not that I don't want to be educated, but I do prefer to have a choice.
That day at school, my friends and I met up in our usual spot where we gather every day before first period starts. I twisted and turned through the hallways until I ended up in the narrow corridor behind the locker rooms that most people didn't know existed. Heck, most people didn't know the locker rooms even had a back door. Looking back on it, I may have witnessed a few drug exchanges there, though my trio were oblivious at the time. Standing in that corridor were the two people who I was most familiar with in the school. Svetlana (Sveta) Grace and Chris Topaz. I greeted them with an ironic peace sign on each hand. I got a just-as-ironic dab from Chris and a wave from Sveta.
"Colette! How did your swim meet go?" Sveta asked. She and Chris were on their gender-respective dive teams, so we sometimes saw eachother at practices as well as school.
"Pretty well, I think," I responded, "I got third place."
"That's great, Cole!" exclaimed Chris enthusiastically. "You should be proud. That's great for not being a mermaid." Chris had texted me about binging this one show on Netflix about girls that turn into mermaids when they touch water, which was reflected in his word choice.
"Thanks," I responded halfheartedly. It couldn't have been that impressive, my parents didn't seem too impressed. the congratulations I received were half-hearted at best. They provided lots of criticism though, constructive and otherwise. Before swimming, I had thought that was the coach's job. I also assumed it was probably Chris and Sveta's duty as friends to make me feel special or whatever. I put on a smile for the sake of unspoken social rules.
"Chris! I never got to ask you how you did on that huge history test that you've spent a month obsessing over! How'd it go?"
Something I've observed about people is that they enjoy talking about things they care about. Finding people who will do that with you is finding people you enjoy the presence of, which leads to friendship. Obviously humor and compassion can play roles too, but common interests are generally how friendships are started, I think. I wish my school had subjects on this sort of thing.
When the bell chimed, indicating that it was time for us to go to class, I said goodbye to Chris, but Sveta's class was in the same direction, so we walked together.
"You seemed a little distracted today, are you okay? You didn't even laugh at the hilarious puppy gifs I showed you!" Sveta piped. As long as I've known her, she'd always somehow know when I wasn't content, even when others didn't.
"Yeah... uh I'll tell you at lunch, okay? I just want to focus on school for now." I responded nervously. With her passion for swim and dive, I didn't know if she'd understand my affliction.
"That's cool, see you at lunch!" She waved as she walked into her classroom, nearly bumping into another classmate.
My first period, World History, flew by quickly, as I payed no attention. My second period however, Drawing, seemed like a good outlet to put my thoughts onto paper. Now, I'm not much of an artist, since I'd rather draw with words, but there's something a lot less limiting about drawing. I had failed to crawl out of my worries that day, so I let my hand move the pencil on its own accord. After a while, I decided to actually see my artwork, and I wasn't exactly sure what my confused scribbles meant, but I could decipher some relation to what I knew.
My third period was Earth Science. It was one of those classes where you know everyone, but aren't really friends with anyone. I sat down in my usual spot, next to Diwa, my one acquaintance in the class who I actively liked. I didn't really know much about her, considering she wasn't the most talkative, but what more would you expect from someone you aren't really friends with?
Mr. Smith was my Earth Science teacher. He roamed the classroom, looking over the shoulders of students to make sure they were completing their assignments. At the strike of 11:20, he stepped to the front of the classroom to speak. We all knew what that meant- a new project. Probably a big one too, considering we had 10 minutes left of class to discuss it and have people ask questions. I remember he said something about us as a class just maybe being responsible enough to choose our own partners for the project. Diwa and I did the thing where we instinctively glanced at each other in silent agreement that it would be best for us to work together. It occurred to me that neither of us had any other "friends" in that class, so we default to what is most in our comfort zone, without a strand of thought elsewhere. Well, I cannot read her mind, so she may have considered working with someone else, but that single glance seemed too quick for her to have put much thought into it... While I pondered, I missed the rest of the instructions given by Mr. Smith, but he handed out a direction sheet, so I was safe. I really needed to stop thinking over people, it's probably rude.
When I turned back to Diwa, it was apparent that she didn't catch many of the instructions either; she was sitting on her chair with her knees propped between herself and the table, nose buried in a notebook. She glanced up, startled, when I began speaking,
"Did you get any of that?"
"O-oh," she stuttered, "what?"
"Same," I said, sliding the direction paper across the surface, "Good thing we have these instructions."
"Phew!" she giggled in relief. We spent the last few minutes of class discussing ideas for the project, but decided we'd come back to the topic when we had more time.
