8 months later still hurt

The princess of the seventh grade , crowned so by her ethereal flawless looks and blond hair and sparkling blue eyes glared at me while I sat alone in a corner,invisible to friendship. I sat at her table everyday at lunch and watched her whisper with the girls who used to be my friends too as they made up a secret language and then proceeded to point and giggle at me. . They whispered but I heard, there’s no way I could have not heard, when someone’s talking about you, you know it. I asked if they remembered when the girl who now plays princess was laughing as a petite Spanish girl and I tried to push her into a freezing pool during pouring rain in the Tuscan winter. The fourth of our quartet had left and when I spoke,”Do you remember?” I really asked if they remembered me and I wondered if the Spanish girl had forgotten that she and I were once inseparable and sister-friends. During the three months of isolation and shunning I faced never once did I let them see me break, they couldn’t know I made myself physically sick to avoid feeling their hot gazes if I attempted to sit with them. I vowed never to let them see the tears that flowed down my cheeks freely every night as I was swept off to the release of dreams. I went from a vibrant girl with my friends surrounding me to an empty ghost inhibiting territory that she used to own. I was pushed in the halls by their sisters and the worst was when I would call Sofe, sweet Sofe who was so compassionate and beg her to tell me why they hated me and she would unconvincingly tell me “ We don’t hate you” even though the Spanish girl hurt to hurt me and willingly did it anyway.