I Am Lonely
There was nothing unusual about the grade 10 classroom of the bilingual German - English high school located in the middle of the city. Vibrating atmosphere compounds secrets, wishes and competitions between the 15 year olds girls and boys, hating and loving each other all at once, not sharing a thought with the adult world. Deeply wishing to be normal but still being so much different from each other in the very secret places of their souls. The hierarchy given by the tables built up in a half circle with the teacher table located on the very ends.
Phoebe Jarsens Feelince was nervously playing with her history book, joggling the pages back and forth, clearly not doing the requested task. Her eyes are concentrating on the plant at the window but actually, she’s not really here. The glass look is an indubitable sign there’s something else on her mind, something scary, something not quite right. From time to time she sighs and looks into the classroom from her place at the door on one end of the table rows and then on the empty place next to her. Maybe now is the time she’d wish for some friends? How easing would it be to just have a friend to talk it over, maybe the fear would go away when she would describe it? She can barely get through the school day today, ever since Ms. Leeveland told her today morning… But at least now she’s got a plan for today afternoon that doesn’t include wandering around library, reading or drawing. That does include another person… a conversation… All of the sudden she gets up and storms out of the classroom. The leave is kind of dramatic but still none of her classmates notices she’s not there anymore. She’s probably just some invisible voice during the math and science classes for most of them anyway.
She loves the school corridors during the classes. Probably the only thing she likes about this school… The only time she can get a peaceful minute in this otherwise overcrowded place, a silence moment she so longs for every minute she has to spend in that class full of teenagers. She opens the door to the sanitary room and stops in front of a mirror. She’s observing herself with a clear sadness in her eyes. Her straight dark brown hair is falling into her face, maybe a little fuzzy, maybe a little not conforming for a young lady. She’s desperately trying to find the lost sparkle in her green-blue eyes. She has already accepted the fact that it’s only there outside of school, when she’s alone, when there is no one around that knows her. But it would be really helpful if it would come back until the last bell rings. Why couldn’t the meeting be at some other time? Why after school, after 6 hours of ongoing rejection from all sides when her already low self-esteem reaches its ground level? She was looking on her clothes comparing it to all the fashion choices of her classmates. Her kind of baggy sporty shirt with dark green jacket compared to Rachel’s nice light pink blouse that comforts her waistline. Her dark blue jeans compared to Michelle’s nice yellow skirt that ends just on the right spot above knees. Phoebe doesn’t even have a skirt. Her wardrobe consists of t-shirts in various shades of dark blue, green and grey and slim jeans. The converse sneakers look almost the same as the rest of her Adidas or Nike shoes and very much different to the ballerinas, plumps and nice summer flip flops of her schoolmates. Some high heels would also be helpful as she is already the smallest and youngest in her class. Her eyes came back to her face with no foundation, no rouge, no mascara, no eye shadows, no earrings… Maybe she should have dressed more nicely, more girly, at least today. She’s not ugly, just a tomboy, not really knowing any of the beauty rules all the other girls seem to effortlessly follow.
Not really nice, not really a good company. Is there any chance he’s gonna like me? The irony of her own thoughts makes her smile sadly. This is probably the same type of thinking the popular girls have before they go out for a date. With her 14 years Phoebe has never really thought about boys. Of course, they have never been interested in her, following the unwritten social hierarchy rules within high school but she herself felt kind of uneasy imagining being touched, so close… No friends, no boyfriend, not one person there for her… Till now. Except her meeting today isn’t with a cute boy from the neighborhood but with Jeremy Feelince, a 36 year old man, therapist at the Lawrence Hospital. No, she’s not going to therapy. She’s going for lunch and possibly staying overnight at his place when everything goes well. She can choose now, until the adoption is endorsed, until her father will get all of his parental rights.
I was shaking so much… Come on, Phoebe, come on… I took my cell phone out and looked on the clock for a 100th time today. Almost 2 pm, only 2 hours more and I will be facing the greatest fear of my life. I googled the name of my father again and the well known images popped up on the screen. A psychologist, isn’t it ironic? Don’t you hear everywhere that they have the biggest troubles with their kids? Or they don’t even know they have some until the kids are teenagers living in foster care for the past ten years… I didn’t know who my father was till two years ago when he started to sue for parental rights. Then I received a name, just a name. No more information, no visit, no presents. Just a name I’ve been googling ever since.
He lives across the country in San Francisco. I was able to find the address and a phone number and have struggled so many times to contact him. But I have never done it. I know where he works. I know, he graduated from Californian University and I know he has specialized in group therapies. I have over analyzed the one and only picture of him online. The one on the hospital webpage, where he seems so official, wearing a blue suit and not smiling, his green eyes just looking straight to the camera. So strict and unfriendly. Or neutral and professional? Or thoughtful and empathic? Every time I look at him I see a different person, with another personality. How is he going to treat me? Is he going to be a friend or an authority? What am I even going to talk about with a 36 year old man? I don’t even know what to talk about with my peers… How much does he know about me? What is he expecting? Will he be disappointed once he realizes I’m me and not the most popular girl in high school? Will he try to put me into therapy so that I become more extraverted? Will he reject me just like the school mates did once he gets to know me better?
I hit angry the sink with my right hand. I don’t want this, I don’t want any of this. I just need a time off; I haven’t really had any time to think this through. I was told today morning, shortly before I left for school. I haven’t had any time to change my clothes, to prepare what I can talk about, to just find a little safe haven within all of my doubts. I don’t wanna go back to class. It’s just history class, I don’t like history class, the teacher’s not even there and she gave us some stupid task to talk about and disappeared. I’ve already signed the attendance list and I doubt any of my schoolmates even noticed I’ve left. Or would remember I was there and now I’m not and ditch me. Am I going to skip the last hour, go for some shopping or to the park to calm down? I have straight A’s and I have never made any problems. And I’m in the middle of a stressful life period, which can be my excuse if someone finds out. Oh no, but I’m so stupid and left my stuff in the classroom… For once I wanted to rebel…
I saw the teacher entering the classroom again immediately after I left the sanitary room. I tried to sneak in silently but heard the others are already packing their stuff. Is the class over? I entered and asked one of my schoolmates, but she just waved with her hand without looking at me, that we are going to watch a movie in the audiovisual room. Even better for me. I waited to be the last one to leave the class and then separated silently from the rest on the stairs. No one who’s gonna miss me, no one to say good bye to anyway. Two hours, I thought walking out to the city. I’ve got two hours to find my inner confidence and change from a caterpillar to a self-confident butterfly.
Phoebe Jarsens Feelince was nervously playing with her history book, joggling the pages back and forth, clearly not doing the requested task. Her eyes are concentrating on the plant at the window but actually, she’s not really here. The glass look is an indubitable sign there’s something else on her mind, something scary, something not quite right. From time to time she sighs and looks into the classroom from her place at the door on one end of the table rows and then on the empty place next to her. Maybe now is the time she’d wish for some friends? How easing would it be to just have a friend to talk it over, maybe the fear would go away when she would describe it? She can barely get through the school day today, ever since Ms. Leeveland told her today morning… But at least now she’s got a plan for today afternoon that doesn’t include wandering around library, reading or drawing. That does include another person… a conversation… All of the sudden she gets up and storms out of the classroom. The leave is kind of dramatic but still none of her classmates notices she’s not there anymore. She’s probably just some invisible voice during the math and science classes for most of them anyway.
She loves the school corridors during the classes. Probably the only thing she likes about this school… The only time she can get a peaceful minute in this otherwise overcrowded place, a silence moment she so longs for every minute she has to spend in that class full of teenagers. She opens the door to the sanitary room and stops in front of a mirror. She’s observing herself with a clear sadness in her eyes. Her straight dark brown hair is falling into her face, maybe a little fuzzy, maybe a little not conforming for a young lady. She’s desperately trying to find the lost sparkle in her green-blue eyes. She has already accepted the fact that it’s only there outside of school, when she’s alone, when there is no one around that knows her. But it would be really helpful if it would come back until the last bell rings. Why couldn’t the meeting be at some other time? Why after school, after 6 hours of ongoing rejection from all sides when her already low self-esteem reaches its ground level? She was looking on her clothes comparing it to all the fashion choices of her classmates. Her kind of baggy sporty shirt with dark green jacket compared to Rachel’s nice light pink blouse that comforts her waistline. Her dark blue jeans compared to Michelle’s nice yellow skirt that ends just on the right spot above knees. Phoebe doesn’t even have a skirt. Her wardrobe consists of t-shirts in various shades of dark blue, green and grey and slim jeans. The converse sneakers look almost the same as the rest of her Adidas or Nike shoes and very much different to the ballerinas, plumps and nice summer flip flops of her schoolmates. Some high heels would also be helpful as she is already the smallest and youngest in her class. Her eyes came back to her face with no foundation, no rouge, no mascara, no eye shadows, no earrings… Maybe she should have dressed more nicely, more girly, at least today. She’s not ugly, just a tomboy, not really knowing any of the beauty rules all the other girls seem to effortlessly follow.
Not really nice, not really a good company. Is there any chance he’s gonna like me? The irony of her own thoughts makes her smile sadly. This is probably the same type of thinking the popular girls have before they go out for a date. With her 14 years Phoebe has never really thought about boys. Of course, they have never been interested in her, following the unwritten social hierarchy rules within high school but she herself felt kind of uneasy imagining being touched, so close… No friends, no boyfriend, not one person there for her… Till now. Except her meeting today isn’t with a cute boy from the neighborhood but with Jeremy Feelince, a 36 year old man, therapist at the Lawrence Hospital. No, she’s not going to therapy. She’s going for lunch and possibly staying overnight at his place when everything goes well. She can choose now, until the adoption is endorsed, until her father will get all of his parental rights.
I was shaking so much… Come on, Phoebe, come on… I took my cell phone out and looked on the clock for a 100th time today. Almost 2 pm, only 2 hours more and I will be facing the greatest fear of my life. I googled the name of my father again and the well known images popped up on the screen. A psychologist, isn’t it ironic? Don’t you hear everywhere that they have the biggest troubles with their kids? Or they don’t even know they have some until the kids are teenagers living in foster care for the past ten years… I didn’t know who my father was till two years ago when he started to sue for parental rights. Then I received a name, just a name. No more information, no visit, no presents. Just a name I’ve been googling ever since.
He lives across the country in San Francisco. I was able to find the address and a phone number and have struggled so many times to contact him. But I have never done it. I know where he works. I know, he graduated from Californian University and I know he has specialized in group therapies. I have over analyzed the one and only picture of him online. The one on the hospital webpage, where he seems so official, wearing a blue suit and not smiling, his green eyes just looking straight to the camera. So strict and unfriendly. Or neutral and professional? Or thoughtful and empathic? Every time I look at him I see a different person, with another personality. How is he going to treat me? Is he going to be a friend or an authority? What am I even going to talk about with a 36 year old man? I don’t even know what to talk about with my peers… How much does he know about me? What is he expecting? Will he be disappointed once he realizes I’m me and not the most popular girl in high school? Will he try to put me into therapy so that I become more extraverted? Will he reject me just like the school mates did once he gets to know me better?
I hit angry the sink with my right hand. I don’t want this, I don’t want any of this. I just need a time off; I haven’t really had any time to think this through. I was told today morning, shortly before I left for school. I haven’t had any time to change my clothes, to prepare what I can talk about, to just find a little safe haven within all of my doubts. I don’t wanna go back to class. It’s just history class, I don’t like history class, the teacher’s not even there and she gave us some stupid task to talk about and disappeared. I’ve already signed the attendance list and I doubt any of my schoolmates even noticed I’ve left. Or would remember I was there and now I’m not and ditch me. Am I going to skip the last hour, go for some shopping or to the park to calm down? I have straight A’s and I have never made any problems. And I’m in the middle of a stressful life period, which can be my excuse if someone finds out. Oh no, but I’m so stupid and left my stuff in the classroom… For once I wanted to rebel…
I saw the teacher entering the classroom again immediately after I left the sanitary room. I tried to sneak in silently but heard the others are already packing their stuff. Is the class over? I entered and asked one of my schoolmates, but she just waved with her hand without looking at me, that we are going to watch a movie in the audiovisual room. Even better for me. I waited to be the last one to leave the class and then separated silently from the rest on the stairs. No one who’s gonna miss me, no one to say good bye to anyway. Two hours, I thought walking out to the city. I’ve got two hours to find my inner confidence and change from a caterpillar to a self-confident butterfly.
31-35, F
