I Can Tell That We Are Gonna’ Be Friends
FleetusMcGee posted in Snapshots
By: Amy
He looks like such a jerk. Did she just glare at
me? Oo what a hottie! Emo. Jock. Stoner. Preppie.
As I walk down these typical beige halls laced with
blue lockers, not one face do I know, not one face
recalls memories of an inside joke, not one face has a
name for me. I push my way through these nameless
faces and resort to what I do know—stereotypes.
She’s obviously a b****, just look at that scowl on her
face. He would totally have been an Emo at my old
school.
As I walk down these halls, the kids split,
divide, add, subtract, all into their little cliques and
all conforming to the preconceived idea that I have of
them. I told myself this time I wouldn’t do this, but
it’s so much easier.
As I walk through these halls I look for
anyone, anyone who dresses like they did, anyone
who laughs like he did, anyone who jokes like she did.
But they’re not here. The people who are here are
nameless but full of first impressions. They remind
me of photographs, you need no words to interpret
them, just eyes.
And as I walk through these halls I hope they
are judging me the way I want to be perceived. I am
fierce. I am outgoing. I am scared.
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