A Critical Teen


What would you do for the one you love… would you pick up a sword and fight for their honor? Would you go on a quest for them, would you die for them? Would you deny yourself from your deepest desire? What is that you wouldn’t do?

Well, we know the classic pretending to be something we are not denying our hearts true intentions because friendships are so important, but would you ever pretend to be straight because you couldn’t handle losing your friendship because you know that you’re in love with your friend and as much as you are, you don’t want the whole world to know and mock you the way they do in school as you walk past throwing out words and phrases you’d think they’d improve on but fail on all attempts like a rapper chocking on his own bars.

This is a quote from my book “A Critical Teen” which is still in works, please let me know what you guys think about this topic. As much as I have my own opinion, I love having others because I want it to be as authentic. We all have a different perspective and that’s what makes us beautiful humans….

 “Look at me.” I can see every little godly mistake screaming at me in the mirror as I try and pull the dress down over my knees. The feeling of harsh sequences brushing up against my bare chest and complete awkwardness ringing in my head as I step out of the yellow curtains to see her expression. Why was I putting myself through this? What was so important about her that I felt it was okay to humiliate myself in such a way? “Oh no you look perfect!” She gets up from the velvet red couch and begins to sway my body left and right giggling in a sweet pitch. “I feel weird and the sequences are itchy.” I step back from her and grab myself together, forcing myself not to live in that moment. I can’t let myself fall into her happy net I tell, myself as I break from her warm grasp and head back into the changing room.

 “Gabby its vintage cloths of course it’s going to be itchy. I can fix it. You’re perfect.” There’s an air of silence and my heart beats fast “It’s perfect for the party and your perfect in it for the party” she cries out louder in my direction. It’s not the words I wanted to hear which is wrong, we are just friends and I’m not into girls, I tell myself as I look into the mirror at my naked body. I stare at myself as if to search for the truth but nothing but hatred and discomfort looks back at me as I begin to dress myself back up. “Are you okay Gabby?” Her honey voice echoes out into my direction, braking my melancholy train of thoughts. “Yeah I’m fine” I grab my shaggy knitted jersey and like an unexpected tsunami a wave of heavy tears flood my face crippling me in the tiny vintage store.

 I see the tears falling from my eyes and watch myself become crippled by a panic attach. My eyes turning red and my nose dripping with an unnameable sadness. I wipe the tears and try to compose myself as I stare at the twenties flapper dress and think of all the champagne parties I attended and dances it danced. “Gabby are you okay?” Her voice hits like icy cold water dripping down your back “yeah, just fixing the dress.” I say hesitantly as I finally find the strength to step out of the changing room and into the 21st century world.


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