Advanced Essay #1 The Misunderstood

A sphynx walks in front of me. She sprouts hair side by side. She suffers from death to the left of me, behind me she´s forever intertwined. 9th grade, I entered SLA doors afraid of what was to come. After the summer institute, the feeling of reassurance was high, but I knew things would shift in time. One by one I met other students, later on discovering a more exuberant side of me that laid dormant as if it was the secret behind Chamber B of the Padmanabhaswamy Temple. Negative altercations led to the truest friendships and I exposed this side of me to everyone. I first put it to use in the library, then in class, and finally with the upperclassmen. My personality was at its peak and I soon began to realize this side of me has always been visible, just wasn't accepted by others as much so here.

As time passed I began following a daily routine, around five every morning I would wake up with my eyes virtually glued shut, equilibrium off balance, and the feeling of two bushy tails brushing against my legs as I try to make my way to the lavatory. Splashing some water onto my face and staring into the mirror in a daze, fantasizing about my desired future university. A small exchange of words for an act for a group project quickly became a game of me running through the halls. While others never understood what exactly was occurring, the individual on the other end always did. Eventually, everyone came to know me as the guy who runs through the hall and soon almost everyone understood the reasoning of it just being plain fun. I had friends now, most upperclassmen. They always provided me with the feeling of acceptance, which was never done by anyone outside of my household. It was like I felt happiness for the first time again. While I was overjoyed for this, I still had a contradicting feeling. A shadow that constantly hovered over me, filling me with nothing but fear. The feeling of being alone, insignificant, and a complete waste of time appeared erratically. The feeling that I was always doing something wrong.

Moments passed, laughs were exchanged, until the year finally ended when my mistake appeared vivid. I barely heard from anyone. It was like we never even really existed. As I paced outside late at night swatting the gnats that lingered among the streets like hungry predators waiting for their time to attack, my curiosity increased. Contemplating the feeling I couldn't quite pinpoint before, but now appeared so obvious. The feeling of neglect and obscure, one that I as a child experienced all too well. I cried for many nights and pondered through many mornings. It was heartbreaking to know I wasn't considered as important to them as I considered them to me. Memories of family members leaving came and went by the hour. I relived every awesome memory of me with them and I questioned everything.

¨What did I do wrong?¨

¨Is this just a repeated cycle?¨

¨Was I nothing more but a source for entertainment?¨

I've grown attached to them. Weakened by them in the most disgusting way possible. Emotionally. Depression returned and since then I vowed not to let this happen again. A game that was once a simple act of playfulness and immaturity, now used as a way of defense and disguise from others and myself.

Summer came and went, my mother came from and returned to the hospital causing me more stress than I believe she knew when sophomore year finally began. The first few weeks I observed everyone. Putting a mental labels on people that I could possibly get attached to who could make me relive the miserable feeling I had at the end of freshmen year and throughout the summer. Covered by my reputation for running through the halls freshman year, I was able to run away without the slightest sign of confusion from the individuals on the other end. Of course, this made them laugh, and surprisingly I was ok with this. Basically killing two birds with one stone, I gave others happiness and an interesting high school experience while at the same time keeping myself emotionally hidden. Unfortunately, something that's confusingly hard for me to do is lie. And it wasn't long until others wanted to know the reason for me sprinting away from them every time they came into view.

I was caught multiple times but coached by my eagerness to stay emotionally hidden. When asked, I said whatever came to mind first. Since scenes from my neighborhood replayed themselves in my head constantly, I used what I've witnessed and defined them as. Thugs and gangsters. I used the words ¨gang banger¨ many of times and shockingly I was able to navigate throughout my whole sophomore year with literally those two words. All I had to say was that and run and people would laugh and without question continue on with their day. Of course, like I said, it's incredibly hard for me to lie. And they saw right through that and soon demanded to know the real reason why. I couldn't tell them that I actually cared for them right? I mean, first and foremost, I know they wouldn't feel the same. They never do. I felt bad. I went back to my old ways of  ¨putting myself in their place¨ routine. I gave them things, wrote nice messages on the holidays. In my own slick way, trying to demonstrate love and friendship but never really confirming it. I gave things to people I barely knew just to even out the playing field so it would become less noticeable. I wanted them to know they did nothing wrong but for that, they would have to know the truth. While going through all this I saw an option of change, some hope that it would be different this year. My hands shook, my sweat glands unlocked, and my heart rate sped up. I gave me secrete to one of the seniors. As the year went by things continued to be the same. My depression soared, I watched my mom fade away before my eyes causing me nothing but agony, and me running from people I loved but I know wouldn't feel the same continued. But I waited. I waited to see if that one person I gave my secrete to would see my reason of action and at least make the effort to stay in touch and provide me with the feeling of acceptance once again. This never happened, ensuring my dark thoughts to be valid. But in a way, I was somewhat ok. For I have left her with the burden of a truth that no one would dare to believe.

As a child, I was taught to love others. Take them into account on every decision I make and consider them family. And yet inevitably, we are forced apart. Sometimes the bond of friendship is not a bond forged by choice. In fact, some would see friendship as a terrible burden. As the summer went by I replayed the memories from sophomore year mentally. The smiles I created that I will never see again with a mixture of dark thoughts that made me realize the obvious. Everything happens for a reason. While I thought this was making me weak, it was indeed making me stronger. It helped me to develop a line between me and them that was only beneficial to me. Which, I must admit, isn't a strong line but it's there. My mom had surgery and was granted a second chance reminding me of the saying ¨ Enjoy it while it last¨. Reassurance of the definition of life appeared clear. I now know that everything doesn't last forever. And there will come a time when I am truly alone. And for the first time in years, I´m actually ok with that. I won't lie, I am afraid. I've been threatened, beaten, and in a way neglected. Little did I know those things would make me more powerful and resistant now more than ever. I´m ready to start and end the junior year with a bang. But of course, this feeling I have now isn't promised. A sphynx walks in front of me. She sprouts hair side by side. She suffers from death to the left of me, behind me she´s forever intertwined.