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#sophomore
I had a friend who got cheated on from a guy who looked like jack the skeleton with starter dreadlocks and when they broke up it destroyed her for some months until her tears swelled up one day me and her were walking around the school and we pass this huge billboard with names of the football players for this year and her ex’s name was on there each football player’s name was written on a metal plate and was stuck on the billboard with screws she told me that every time she saw his name on there she wanted to just “take it down” so I told her that on the last day of our sophomore year we would do that on the last day of school we gathered up our friend group and waited outside of school till it hit midnight no sign of anyone was in the building and no cars were outside in the parking lot so I take out a few tools that I stole from my dad’s toolbox and try to pick lock from the back door while someone held a flashlight after a few minutes pass it finally worked and we all tiptoe into the building giggling and chuckling to the billboard we all stand in front of it staring at the names until we found the ex’s name on there shining like silver dust I position myself to do a piggyback and my friend leaps onto my back I raised myself up trying to hold my feet onto the ground while trying not to get wobbly knees and my friend takes a screwdriver from her pocket one by one she took the screws of and with both of her hands she rips off the name out of the billboard we all cheered with joy until we all heard the sound of a security guard running towards us we all ran as fast as we could laughing so hard it echoed throughout the hallways in a bubbly toon after we ran out the building with no sign of the security guard behind we stopped in our tracks and catch our breaths while sweat ran down our faces I looked up at my friend she still had her ex’s name plate in her hand she did a slight chuckle and did a big shout to the sky we all shouted glee and laughed until we lost our voices then we all went our separate ways I don’t know what my friend was going to do with that name plate she’ll probably burn it or maybe chuck it over a cliff somewhere but I know that on that day we all felt infinite
0
Dec 7, 2024
Dec 7, 2024 at 7:13 PM UTC
Sophomore heist
I had a friend who got cheated on from a guy who looked like jack the skeleton with starter dreadlocks and when they broke up it destroyed her for some months until her tears swelled up one day me and her were walking around the school and we pass this huge billboard with names of the football players for this year and her ex’s name was on there each football player’s name was written on a metal plate and was stuck on the billboard with screws she told me that every time she saw his name on there she wanted to just “take it down” so I told her that on the last day of our sophomore year we would do that on the last day of school we gathered up our friend group and waited outside of school till it hit midnight no sign of anyone was in the building and no cars were outside in the parking lot so I take out a few tools that I stole from my dad’s toolbox and try to pick lock from the back door while someone held a flashlight after a few minutes pass it finally worked and we all tiptoe into the building giggling and chuckling to the billboard we all stand in front of it staring at the names until we found the ex’s name on there shining like silver dust I position myself to do a piggyback and my friend leaps onto my back I raised myself up trying to hold my feet onto the ground while trying not to get wobbly knees and my friend takes a screwdriver from her pocket one by one she took the screws of and with both of her hands she rips off the name out of the billboard we all cheered with joy until we all heard the sound of a security guard running towards us we all ran as fast as we could laughing so hard it echoed throughout the hallways in a bubbly toon after we ran out the building with no sign of the security guard behind we stopped in our tracks and catch our breaths while sweat ran down our faces I looked up at my friend she still had her ex’s name plate in her hand she did a slight chuckle and did a big shout to the sky we all shouted glee and laughed until we lost our voices then we all went our separate ways I don’t know what my friend was going to do with that name plate she’ll probably burn it or maybe chuck it over a cliff somewhere but I know that on that day we all felt infinite
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35
Sophomore year’s clocked-up my free time. Last summer I made some core promises (to my mom) to go harder on the pre-med track. Perfect grades are ok, I’m told, but they’re underdog, alone. So, this year, my “spare” time is split between hospital volunteering and a (nominally) paid research project. The goal of all this hustle is to pad my resume up, as proffer, for a 2025 med school slot. I’ve never felt so observed, judged and weekendless, but playas gotta play. Last week, Peter (let’s call him my BF) was invited to some random alumni event. He wasn’t excited about it, but he thought, “Ooo, free meal.” Actors and doctoral students are all about free food. Then, after he signed onto it, they told him the group was going, by train to Washington DC, on an overnight trip (all expenses paid) where they’d visit the White House and meet the President. They took the train through New York and down to DC arriving late at night and then they had to meet in the lobby, the following morning, at 7am to get COVID tested for the White House. He said the White House experience, and the meet-and-greet seemed surreal. While he didn’t get to meet Joe, he shook Jill Biden’s hand, and in a parting, fog-headed moment, suggested she “have a good one.” (Hopefully, she did.) As an extra, on the way back, at union station in DC, they heard gunshots and there were a few tense moments where they saw people in the station (outside the train) running about in panic. Eventually, security pronounced everything safe. A man WAS shot in the foot but that passes for a calm night in DC. All-in-all the event and train travel made for an exhausting trip for poor Peter. Bizz, BIZZ-BIZZ-BIZZ. At first, the alarm sound seemed unreal and unimportant. I opened my eyes and through my three, open dorm windows, I could see stars still flickering busily, like light off of so much broken glass. “What?” I mumbled. “I have to go,” Peter said drowsily, as he kissed my forehead, “it’s getting early.” It seemed I blinked, and he was gone. After he left, I woke up several times. The silence seemed heavy, almost solid and it easily pressed me back into sleep.
0
Oct 13, 2022
Oct 13, 2022 at 12:40 PM UTC
panic at the station
Sophomore year’s clocked-up my free time. Last summer I made some core promises (to my mom) to go harder on the pre-med track. Perfect grades are ok, I’m told, but they’re underdog, alone. So, this year, my “spare” time is split between hospital volunteering and a (nominally) paid research project. The goal of all this hustle is to pad my resume up, as proffer, for a 2025 med school slot. I’ve never felt so observed, judged and weekendless, but playas gotta play. Last week, Peter (let’s call him my BF) was invited to some random alumni event. He wasn’t excited about it, but he thought, “Ooo, free meal.” Actors and doctoral students are all about free food. Then, after he signed onto it, they told him the group was going, by train to Washington DC, on an overnight trip (all expenses paid) where they’d visit the White House and meet the President. They took the train through New York and down to DC arriving late at night and then they had to meet in the lobby, the following morning, at 7am to get COVID tested for the White House. He said the White House experience, and the meet-and-greet seemed surreal. While he didn’t get to meet Joe, he shook Jill Biden’s hand, and in a parting, fog-headed moment, suggested she “have a good one.” (Hopefully, she did.) As an extra, on the way back, at union station in DC, they heard gunshots and there were a few tense moments where they saw people in the station (outside the train) running about in panic. Eventually, security pronounced everything safe. A man WAS shot in the foot but that passes for a calm night in DC. All-in-all the event and train travel made for an exhausting trip for poor Peter. Bizz, BIZZ-BIZZ-BIZZ. At first, the alarm sound seemed unreal and unimportant. I opened my eyes and through my three, open dorm windows, I could see stars still flickering busily, like light off of so much broken glass. “What?” I mumbled. “I have to go,” Peter said drowsily, as he kissed my forehead, “it’s getting early.” It seemed I blinked, and he was gone. After he left, I woke up several times. The silence seemed heavy, almost solid and it easily pressed me back into sleep.
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7
Draining sweat out of my mind on the black line wondering how the hell did we get here???… one minute it’s 5on5. i’m on the JV squad beating varsity with ease. intense energy arise. next minute, coach is ****** has all of us on the line like soldiers. running in sections of groups of 3-4 varsity runs first JV next freshman third whoever’s left just run last. as we look at the scoreboard, the death clock is set for one minute. all we have to do is beat the clock before time runs out, otherwise we keep running. a full-court “Kentucky Derby” sprint and yet, we’ve been practicing for 7 hours on a school night. mentally exhausted from homework due tomorrow. physically in pain from the drills. Coach yells: “NEXT GROUP!” dam_. here we go. Coach: “GO!” tick, tick, tick
0
Oct 15, 2021
Oct 15, 2021 at 1:48 AM UTC
8- Suicides of the Kentucky Derby
I've known for a while now That I love you I love you like the sun Beating down with so much radiance I love you in your sweaters And your high heeled boots Walking on the side of the road Through the rain Like it's nothing I love you in green And black And yellow and blue I love you when you're turned away from me Doing what you love most And I love you when you ask me To come and sit with you I love being with you I love you
0
Feb 2, 2020
Feb 2, 2020 at 1:48 PM UTC
I Love You
Today flipped through my 10th grade journal Stumbled upon a list My greatest desires at the time Things for which I most wished The first and only thing written To find someone who loves me Tells me I'm beautiful every day When I look and act ugly Here I am nine long years later Blessed with that guy I am still unhappy Don't know why
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Dec 26, 2019
Dec 26, 2019 at 5:23 AM UTC
10th Grade Journal
I survived my freshman year I'm now a sophomore But I want the school year to be here I miss school I have 82 days left of hell ~6/14/18
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Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 2:05 PM UTC
School is out
Sherlie is the beautiful girl I know Her eyes light the room like a rainbow When she smiles, I cannot help but feel great For this lovely person I could never feel hate. Sherlie sweet like sugar cane Love for her could never wane Makes me smile every day Without her I do not feel okay When she is not here, i feel biue I have not a clue what I can do I always  make her go to school Everyone knows that Sherlie rules! Sherlie is like a ray of sunshine I am so glad to have her as a friend of mine. This page is half-full so I'll fill the rest With SHERLIE IS THE ABSOLUTE BEST!
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May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 1:01 PM UTC
Ode To Sherlie
The start of sophomore year. Day one blew by like a summer zephyr. The excitement of the beings filled the halls, the smell of the over-sweaty high school kids burned my nostrils, and the cheers of friends reuniting revererabted the cluttered yellow rooms. Day two inched forward slowly, testing my patience as I sat eagerly, my small hands gripping my seat’s edge until my knuckles turned white, and my hands grew tired. That second day was the worst day. My feet could not move fast enough as I raced to the front door of my third home. The coolness of the grass felt nice against the blistering heat of the sun. I did not look behind me while I reached, grasping the metal handle in my hand, and pushing the door open to go inside. I hardly sat down on my disheveled bed before I received a text message. The boy down the road’s name flashed across my screen, and I opened it without hesitation, without holding my breath, because this boy was my good friend. Four words, texted in small font, the black letters harsh against the white background. Four words, not directly spoken, but over my outdated phone. Four words, those four words that I should have declined when I first got them. As innocent as the message was, it left me feeling both like I was weightless and that the whole world was crushing me. The simultaneous bittersweetness settled in the pit of my empty stomach. Nervous hands responded but anxious feet managed to move without thought. I think I ran there. The scent of dog wasn’t hard to perceive when the door flew open, and there He was. I had to look up to meet His gaze, His dark eyes were soft, His skin fair. His black hair curled around His face and His dark scruff stayed neatly in place. This was His last friendly smile to me. The honey in His voice left me senseless. It was sweet and kind, like His stiff gestures, His large hands were tense, always fidgeting. His eyes weren’t focused on the television while we sat on the corduroy couch, but the hem of my denim dress that fell just above my legging-clad legs. This left me overwrought with both curiosity and fear. The gentle air from His lips touched my neck, and where I should have flinched, I froze. The air grew warmer, nearer, but I grew colder, more frightened than agog. Then His hand touched my leg gently, as if that would hush the feeling in my gut. Those hands were quick, like callused demons, Trailing up my thigh in what felt like a second and a year, all at once. His hand stopped abruptly mid stroke, looking at me with those once soft eyes, but they weren’t gentle anymore, they held longing, no, hunger. Hunger I have never seen before, like He was ready to consume my whole being. And I hardly got my breath back before those hands continued to slide up, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind Him. Another pause - deep breath. As He questioned me, I questioned myself. What if I touched you there, He inquired. I wondered how long I would have to hold my breath before I would pass out. He waited for a response, but none came out. I opened my mouth to speak, but only to taste the stale air before I closed it again. I closed it, not because I was a coward, but because if I would have spoken, I would have vomited all over Him. Oh god, I wish I would have opened my mouth. Fast forward to November.
0
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 12:17 PM UTC
The Last Time Part II
The start of sophomore year. Day one blew by like a summer zephyr. The excitement of the beings filled the halls, the smell of the over-sweaty high school kids burned my nostrils, and the cheers of friends reuniting revererabted the cluttered yellow rooms. Day two inched forward slowly, testing my patience as I sat eagerly, my small hands gripping my seat’s edge until my knuckles turned white, and my hands grew tired. That second day was the worst day. My feet could not move fast enough as I raced to the front door of my third home. The coolness of the grass felt nice against the blistering heat of the sun. I did not look behind me while I reached, grasping the metal handle in my hand, and pushing the door open to go inside. I hardly sat down on my disheveled bed before I received a text message. The boy down the road’s name flashed across my screen, and I opened it without hesitation, without holding my breath, because this boy was my good friend. Four words, texted in small font, the black letters harsh against the white background. Four words, not directly spoken, but over my outdated phone. Four words, those four words that I should have declined when I first got them. As innocent as the message was, it left me feeling both like I was weightless and that the whole world was crushing me. The simultaneous bittersweetness settled in the pit of my empty stomach. Nervous hands responded but anxious feet managed to move without thought. I think I ran there. The scent of dog wasn’t hard to perceive when the door flew open, and there He was. I had to look up to meet His gaze, His dark eyes were soft, His skin fair. His black hair curled around His face and His dark scruff stayed neatly in place. This was His last friendly smile to me. The honey in His voice left me senseless. It was sweet and kind, like His stiff gestures, His large hands were tense, always fidgeting. His eyes weren’t focused on the television while we sat on the corduroy couch, but the hem of my denim dress that fell just above my legging-clad legs. This left me overwrought with both curiosity and fear. The gentle air from His lips touched my neck, and where I should have flinched, I froze. The air grew warmer, nearer, but I grew colder, more frightened than agog. Then His hand touched my leg gently, as if that would hush the feeling in my gut. Those hands were quick, like callused demons, Trailing up my thigh in what felt like a second and a year, all at once. His hand stopped abruptly mid stroke, looking at me with those once soft eyes, but they weren’t gentle anymore, they held longing, no, hunger. Hunger I have never seen before, like He was ready to consume my whole being. And I hardly got my breath back before those hands continued to slide up, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind Him. Another pause - deep breath. As He questioned me, I questioned myself. What if I touched you there, He inquired. I wondered how long I would have to hold my breath before I would pass out. He waited for a response, but none came out. I opened my mouth to speak, but only to taste the stale air before I closed it again. I closed it, not because I was a coward, but because if I would have spoken, I would have vomited all over Him. Oh god, I wish I would have opened my mouth. Fast forward to November.
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88
freshman year Happy, scared, young, full, and ready for whatever it is thats about to hit you. You loose your bestfriend, and your virginity. You gain a new clique, and a body count. sophomore year your freshman expertise kick in and you think youve got the feel for the highschool life. You fail chemistry, and go to your first party. *you are now a **** You think youre cooler than your ex bestfriend because you have ten bucks saying that shes never had a boy see her underwear or that shes never been as drunk at you. junior year You spent your summer in therapy, in and out of mental hospitals because your eating disorder became deadly, and all of the friends you partied with cut you off because your newest bestfriend convinced you to sleep with one of their exs. You come back to school as dead as you have ever been and you spend every lunch period in the art room painting your sorrows away and you spend every night at home doing the same only this time your wrist becomes the canvas. seinor year Your down to one medication a day now and you have commited social suicide all summer by staying in to gaurd yourself from turning to drugs and alcohol again to hide the pain. Graduation is arround the corner and you realize you could finally be happy once this is all over.
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Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 12:02 AM UTC
Highschool