Photo by Tai's Captures on Unsplash Levi felt like he’d already been standing for hours. There was a line of people behind him as far as he could see, though that didn’t say much. He could hardly see over the heads of the two people directly behind him. His best friend, Olivia, had been in front of him.
In fact, she’d been talking to him while they’d been waiting. The two of them had grown up neighbors and became friends out of convenience more than anything. A few years ago, that changed and the pair quickly became closer than ever. Before the first five people had crossed the stage, she’d turned around to him. “You think this’ll take more or less than three hours?” she’d asked. “With Leo giving a speech? Easily over. We’ll be lucky to get out of here by two.” Olivia had gotten into her second choice of colleges, University of Michigan. She would be hours from him for the first time since they’d met. They had called her name a moment ago, and he watched as she walked, curls bouncing behind her. “...Levi Johnson!” As he ascended the steps to the stage, Levi took a breath. The old wood creaked under his footsteps, barely audible over the cheers and claps that had been echoing through the building for at least an hour now. He’d stood in front of the mirror for nearly half an hour before he’d left that morning, watching his reflection. Despite the matching caps and gowns they all wore, he’d considered dressing up. Nothing I do today will change their opinion of me, he thought bitterly. Unless it’s for the worse. After all, he’d known these people since before he could read or write. Levi had seen all of their embarrassing childhood photos. They’d seen him grow from an awkward child into an anxious teen. The people in this room knew nearly everything there was to know about him. Levi’s hands shook as he reached out to take his diploma. Because in all honesty, he was scared of this exact moment. Last year, he’d watched his older friends walk at graduation. He’d only spoken to one of them since. In a few short months, that would be him. He would leave his family behind, leave the small stores he’d grown up with. It was terrifying. It was thrilling. He shook the hands of the school staff members, and looked out into the sea of parents and siblings. It was easy enough to find his sister, dressed brightly. She clapped as he crossed the stage. Just last night, they’d talked about their futures. “You’ll be okay without me?” “God, Levi, yes. You don’t have to worry about me.” she’d said. “That won’t stop me.” “Just… try. I’ll be fine on my own.” And Levi was trying. He tried to pretend his fear of leaving stemmed from a place of concern. That he couldn’t leave until he knew his family would be okay. But it was purely selfish. He wanted to find an excuse in them, pretend his reason to not leave was anything other than his own fear. How many people had walked this stage before him, wondering about their own futures? He saw Olivia’s gentle smile waiting for him. Levi stepped off the stage and into his future.
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dear little queer girl,
don’t believe what they say. you’re not a monster you’re not bad for being yourself. dear little queer girl, your love is pure. your love is the raindrops in the summer and the colors in the fall. dear little queer girl, you have nothing to apologize for. so don’t let them shame you into being sorry for being in love. dear little queer girl, i, too, was scared once. i was scared of the known, the unknown, and everything in between. dear little queer girl, never let them take your love. Dear parents,
you don’t get to brag about giving your kid the bare necessities. Because that’s what they are: the bare necessities. Dear parents, we are trying and trying and dying to do the right thing. Dear parents, we will make mistakes. We just want to be told it's okay. Dear parents, even if something goes wrong, we love you. i’m sorry for this
I thought you loved me i do but i- I can’t be alone again i’m sorry to leave Is it something i did? it’s not your fault Then why do this? we’re better on our own Hello hi, how are you? Fine, you? good That’s good. that’s nice to hear Goodbye, now. bye i’ve missed you I thought you’d forgotten i could never forget That’s nice to hear how’ve you been? I must get going. bye Goodbye. mom, i will be leaving you soon.
i will be in a new place, snow blindingly white warm under a blanket, safe under the lights i will remember you when i see the moon please understand, mom, when i come home in june i will come home to you, come home to the sight of the house i grew up in after a long flight and until then, i will think of you every cloudy afternoon You can’t leave me, dear, I’m all alone. The wind, it blows so strongly there, I fear it will chill you right to the bone. And you’re so fragile, what if you’re scared? And if I can’t contact you if you lose your phone, You’ll be out in the woods, what if there’s no one there? I chose this prompt because I thought it was the one that reflected best and most accurately upon me as a person. The strengths of the essay are the grammar, and the weaknesses are that it doesn’t feel particularly special to me or individual, it seems like something that anyone could have written. It also easily gets off topic and doesn’t particularly focus on any one moment. It doesn’t show much about me as a person.
You should do the things that scare you.
A phone call. That was all that stood between me and getting my ears (re)pierced. A quick, simple, terrifying phone call. The first memory I have is one of fear. My elementary school had closed down due to a lack of funding. I, a second grader about to lose my best (and only) friend, was tasked with making a call. Simple enough. I had her number in front of me, and all I had to do was say a few words before handing off the phone to my mom. Do you want to hang out? I dialed the number, waited while it rang, and hung up. I couldn’t do it. I was scared. I felt the tears prick the corners of my eyes. What was wrong with me? The worst thing that could happen was her saying no, right? I didn’t call. I didn’t talk to her for years. I avoid things that scare me. I don’t see a point in doing them. I’d rather stay in my safe bubble of avoiding conflict and my fears. My mom always told me to do the things I’m scared of. She thought that it would make me braver. That it would make me better at these things. 10 years later and I still can’t talk on the phone. I wanted to wear the earrings my best friend made me. I wanted to be able to wear the earrings that I had spent hours upon hours looking at online and choosing. I wanted to be able to do something that would make them proud of me. So I considered it. Does my want to have pierced ears again outweigh my fear of phone calls? No. But this is something I’ve avoided for years. So I picked up the phone and dialed. is that, as a kid, my school closed down.
All the students moved away, the softball benches were removed, and the playgrounds were empty. The original playground was burned down, and so they rebuilt it. Bigger. Stronger. Better. It is now old and graffitied, no more children coming to climb and slide and laugh. Sometimes, I think this is why I am scared to be alone. Sometimes, I think people will not want me when I am no longer shiny and new. I will
wipe my tears and tell you ‘I am sorry’ I should have waited up for you a little longer. you didn’t want to watch that movie anyways. |
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