I couldn’t take it.

It was too much for me to handle.

This overwhelming feeling unexpectedly crept up behind me and swallowed me whole. I felt… broken, weak.



Norah, Scarlett, and I were just about to leave the cafeteria. We stood up from the benches at the lunch tables and began heading toward our first block classes. Then all of a sudden I stopped. I was thinking. Thinking too much about how I was feeling. Scarlett turned around to make sure I was following her and Norah.



“What’s wrong?” she asked me. Norah turned around too.

I was about do it. The thing I thought I was never going to do in public, especially in school. And I did, right then and there. Into my sister’s and best friend’s arms, I cried.

They patted my back gently, trying to comfort me.

“I need a phone.” I managed to choke out to Scarlett. As any good sister would, she did the best she could to help me.

“Norah, can we borrow your phone? We need to call our mom.” Scarlett said, quickly. Norah must have seen the look on my face, she let us use it.

“Okay, let’s go to the bathroom.” Norah said. My shaking body managed to get itself over there.

Norah took out her phone and handed it to Scarlett. My trembling voice couldn’t speak. She started to dial our home phone number.

“Hello?” the other line sounded.

Our aunt answered the phone. Mom must have been grocery shopping. Scarlett asked for our uncle to pick me up. She handed me the phone.

“Hello, Auntie Rochelle?” I said into the little phone.

“Hi, Sage? What’s wrong, dear?” My caring aunt’s voice questioned.

I explained how I was feeling, how I was crying, and how I wanted to go home. “Can you have Uncle Evan pick me up in the back?”

“Okay, I’ll wake him up.” Then she hung up.

I apologized to Norah and Scarlett.

The 5 minute bell rang. They would be late.

“Oh no, we’re gonna be late.” Scarlett worried.

“No, it’s okay. We’re not gonna be late.” Norah reassured her.

I let them go to first block. I took a couple of seconds to collect myself in the bathroom. I put on my jacket and headed out the bathroom. Then, I did it again. I was crying. I walked as quickly as my legs would take me, out the back way of the high school. Students were entering the double doors. I pushed my way through.

There was a teacher outside dealing with the cars that were unloading their kids. I made sure I wasn’t in his sight.

I ran to the side of the building. The 19 degree cold surrounded me. It inched its way through my clothes and onto my skin. The sun was just above the horizon, so bright and orange. Its rays didn’t warm any part of me. There were cars passing by me, with drivers probably thinking, Shouldn’t she be in school?

I waited for about fifteen minutes. Finally, I saw Uncle Evan's car. He was pulling in to the front of the school. I guess he didn’t get the message of meeting me behind the school.

So, I ran. I ran with the bag on my shoulder. I ran with the clothes on my back. I ran towards his car. I ran away from the school. And I ran away from trying so hard to be perfect.

That was why I was crying. I was trying to be perfect. I wanted perfection. The perfect look, the perfect life. And I thought that would make me happy. But that’s certainly not the case. There is no such thing as perfection. Imperfections are what make life so perfect.