The Real FriendMature

My struggle in school and my 1st real freind. Its autobiographical fiction.

It started a long time ago, I guess.

      I was never really a social animal to begin with. Combine that with a horrendous culture shock and a tremendous jump in the level of study, and you get what was me back in the seventh grade, when I joined my new school.

Some girls may complain about boys, or their bitchy friends: I never had any, and I was too scared to speak. Everyone was busy with their own lives, their own groups. They spoke about TV shows I didn’t see, about music I didn’t know even existed. I didn’t say anything, for I was scared, scared of their sarcastic laughter, their comments on my limited knowledge. After changing schools three times previously, I had learned that the first impression is very much the last one. What I failed to see was that by keeping quiet, I was actually ruining any chances of fitting in. Ever.

For six months in my new school, people in my own class, in my own bus didn’t know I existed. I had never been so invisible. I hated that feeling. I had been a good student all my life, a topper for most. I was used to people recognising me, of being jealous of me, of asking me for help, of helping me. For three weeks in this school, most of the girls thought that I had a speech defect, and hence was unable to speak!

The End

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