I stood talking to my friend in the dark massive lobby of Norton Hall. Everything was going fine. Until I saw her. The person that I had once labeled as my friend, walked down the stairs into the once-calm- lobby.
My heart beat wildly in my chest. I knew that she would keep on walking past. She didn’t. She stopped and talked to my friend right next to me. No eye contact with me.
As I stood there, I pretended to look around. I had to do anything to keep my mind from feeling annihilated.
The internal me wanted to grab her arms erratically, shake her like she had shaken my life. I wanted to scream, “Why aren’t you talking to me? What did I do?”
Instead I looked around the lobby, noticed the large renaissance painting on the left wall that I had never noticed before.
I felt a massive ball of anger emerge from my stomach. I could feel it mounting. I could no longer hold back my feelings. They were going to come loose.
My face grew hot and I knew I was red. My jaw muscles tightened up, twitching to the outside observer.
“Well, I gotta go,” I hurriedly said over my shoulder as I climbed the stairs. They didn’t notice me. That seemed to bother me more, as I slammed my feet up the stairs. People coming down gave me a weary look as they scrambled out of my way.
My eyes squinted unwilling to comprehend what just happened.
As I slammed through the large pearl-like doors, I felt free. I could breathe, the angry tension in my stomach subsided.
With it, came a tide of sadness that wouldn’t leave.
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