Memories of Morton and A Girl I Once Knew.

The crowded hallways never opened for the tiny freshman, but she never looked like a freshman, now did she? She wasn't stupid or chatty like they were, she didn't like the things they liked, and she always fitted in with the older grades. She had never had any friends, and even less of a social life, but that was who she was, and at that time, the girl was proud of herself for being that. 1

She was horrible, swearing to herself and acting like a perfect angel for her teachers. A lot of them even liked her back, which seemingly amazed this girl. She treated religon like it was a cake walk. There was something different everyday that she found to mimic and make fun of in front of the people who cared most about her. However, this was only the tip of the iceburg. 2

Freshman year came and went, without too much activity, and then along came Sophmore year. Ah, the relief she had of saying, "I am now a nock higher on the high school totem pole". Her condition had only worsend over the summer. There was no joy, there was no absolution. She had discovered new ways to mess with people's heads successfully, and it was becoming far more interesting to her to be this way. 3

On the first day of her school term, she wore all black. The hallways cleared when she came through, for she had also gotten to be quite tall, and was an imposing figure to the new faces. Her expression of bordism mixed with the tiniest hints of anger at the world remained fixated in her tightly drawn frown and light the fire of burning fury in her eyes. Classes were accomplished easily, a no brainer for her for she had always been intelligent. She mixed with the wrong crowds, rubbed shoulders with the wrong people, and still mocked herself and the people around her. It was a disease and it was eating her alive. 4

It was soon after that, the girl changed herself everyway that someone could change. Nothing was spared, not wrist nor hair, nor closet, or mindset. Everything was changed. The hair color became more interesting everyday; the closet slowly turned black; her wrists became hidden in longer sleeves, and her mindset became dark and angrier. The people with whom she had associations with, were not the best of people, and although part of her knew this, she refused to listen to sense, telling herself that she knew what she was doing and if she didn't she knew a way to fix it all. God save the self-righteous youth. 5

Band class was what she lived for, aside from second hour; her music her outlet whether she was playing away at the clarinet, or letting her fingers trill away at the piano, the only source of real comfort. Her worn but beautifully polished piano at home became the only place in which she allowed her true self to be shown: a dedicated young woman with a bright and happy future, if only she could stop fighting herself. 6

Now, classes were over for another year, and she left school, ripping her report card to shreds, angry that she was being torn out of the only place that she called home at that point. Her goodbyes to the teachers that she loved like family were short, but mournful. She knew that some of her teachers were retiring, and she had arranged her life around her career and she would not be seeing her band teacher again in the year to come. Prehap in senoir year, prehap not. 7

Summer vacation started off quickly. She rushed through days filled with the internet and packed her bags for a vacation to England, a place of beauty and bliss, even for the most tortured of minds. As she boarded the long flight, all she thought of was the music that blared in her ears and whether or not the tiny town that she was going to would be beautiful. 8

England was beyond the girl's expectations. It was not only beautiful, but quiet and gentle. Nothing was out of place, and she finally was able to find a shred of peace in her worthless existance. The beautiful promenade captivated her writer's soul and tugged at her artist's heart, things that she had not been interested in for almost two years began rekindling themselves into her soul, and a spark of animation appeared in the girl's bright eyes. Seeing as her favorite place in the world was a walk away, she often would make the trip, her heart weary and anger laden, only to sit on the high wall that prevented her from falling into the rising tide, and watch as her anger floated away in the night air, underneath the stars that shone so clearly. The girl often caught herself gazing up at them, realizing how much clearer the skies were here, then back when the girl was home. Often, on these trips, the girl cried, the stars and their unsurpassable beauty the cause of her tears. They were not meant to be viewed by the unjust, and the girl considered herself to be such. 9

These evenings on the silent promenade became reflection periods. The waves crashing softly against the rocks below became engrained in her person, and the girl began to pray to a God that she thought had never existed. The girl prayed for guidance, and for someone to listen without speaking. The prayers were answered, in the form of a cat. Smudge, the girl's next door neighbor's cat, was oft let out at night, and would accompany the girl when she sat on the porch ledge, and listened without voice to the girl's thoughts and past haunts. After a week of speaking, the girl began to change again. 10

Again, nothing was spared. She deleted black from her clothing list, as did her attitude. The girl's hunger for knowledge about the God that she had for so long forsaken came rushing to her, and answers were found. Slowly the girl made her life change. A happy smile lit her face as she walked towards the promenade at night, and the stars reflected in her glowing eyes. The girl had finally stopped fighting herself, and had once again, become the girl that she thought she never could be. 11

England was a memory when school started again. The girl was thrust back into the miseries of the hallways that seems to eat away at her new found confidence. The girl was still determined, thus she changed her schedule and made things right, breaking away with the people and crowds, that even eariler in the summer, she had made associations with, and near lost herself to. 12

More changes were made. She shaved her head, so no one could touch her hair anymore, and black was deleted again. Soon, the girl was back in blue jeans and colors, a step she had never seen herself taking. Upon searching, the girl found that she could enter a private school and begin college early. The girl, recognizing her oppertunity, jumped for it, and left all of the bad influences and wrongful associations in the forlorn halls at Morton High School. 13

Now, the young woman is happy with herself and what she has become. The workload can become tiring, and the four hours that she spends at the gym exhausts her muscles, but she has found that she enjoys every moment of her life. She has lost almost fifty pounds, and enjoys her Mondays off to be with her family and running at the park. Life has treated this young woman well, and she faces it with the confidance that her Lord has given her, and is proud to be a member of his army in the ending days. 14

Who is this girl, the one who walked the halls of Morton, and was someone who I once knew? She is I, and happy am I to be her.