Ten well-arranged letters.
Two frightening words.
The fact that I was Joining mid-year, was going to be my undoing. I would walk in, and a virtual Jumbotron adorning my head would say- “FRESH MEAT. PLEASE TARGET, MOCK AND TORMENT!”
As I walk through the winding corridors, everyone will stare at me and whisper. It is after all a small school, and Unfamiliars are almost never left unscathed.
Floral top and jeans; was it too much? Was it too casual? Will they like me?
Or will they jeer at me for being too old fashioned?
Despite social standing and expectations covering their ears, will they listen to what I have to say?
~sigh~ Knowing high-schoolers, they won’t.
They’ll be sure to judge every movement I make, every turn I take, every morsel I eat- they’ll be watching me. At least for the first few days anyway, until the sheen of my newness wears off. Ideally by then they’ll warm up to me, and I’ll be comfortable with them.
What if like ravenous beasts they shred my dignity and self-worth, and devour me?
What if I am permanently designated as the landing pad for aeroplanes made out of paper and hate?
What if they cast me aside and pay no heed to what I have to say?
It’s entirely possible. .
NO, this time they’d have to take note of me,
This time they’d actually have no choice.
The misery of this mortal manifestation of Hades’ dwelling won’t haunt me.
Why? Because this time I was not entering the underworld, as a poor sinning soul.
This time I would be the one awarding punishment, the one at the table of judgement.
For presently I was not here to participate, study or socialise-
I was here to Educate.