I stared up at the notes that were being written up on the board, English, the subject that was supposed to be my favourite suddenly felt far from it. Something that felt all too familiar suddenly felt something too difficult and too different to handle. As time dragged on I bore deeper and deeper into everything that I was learning, sinking me deeper and deeper into the unknown.
The end of class finally came to a close, the rush to leave was the only thing that managed to make my day bearable. My parents had fought yet again last night, keeping me awake until dawn. I had loved my life away from school, the private life that I had managed to keep in balance with school. Now school had become my rock and after last night I don’t think that would change any time soon.
Days had turned into weeks, as weeks had turned into months and months into a year. My graduation ceremony was just starting to take place and the realisation that I was actually graduating had hit me as hard as a freight train. I had only just managed to pull off a pass, barely scraping the barrel. I guess a part of me was happy to repeat, even with all the embarrassment of my fellow peers and my parents. Anything to cling on to my rock.
By the time my name was called for me to walk up and accept my certificate, I had completely lost track of my surroundings once again. I had been seated in between my parents, they couldn’t even look at each other. I honestly had wished neither of them had come, you’d think that after the divorce they’d find some sort of closure.
I accepted my certificate with my bright smile and a long stride before looking back to my parents who were now smiling. I guess their closure was knowing that they had me. Proof that something so damaged as their marriage had some evidence of being something once so beautiful. But, if only they’d known.
If only they’d known that the girl who smiled the brightest and laughed the hardest was also the same girl who cried the most and also felt the most lonely. She along with her parents had become somewhat broken, something inside her said that her parents knew. That what she was showing them was what they wanted to see. I guess believing something that’s not true is easier than accepting what’s actually there.
She’d wished that her parents divorce hadn’t taken away her happiness, that it hadn’t taken away hers or her family once upon a time. Now as she stood with the rest of them and looked shamelessly at the wooden floor below all she could think of is how she had become them. Her parents daughter, and how she was destined to be as miserable as they are.