Maraya Figueroa University of Central Florida 4,218 words Orlando, FL 32816

THE SECRET POET By Maraya Figueroa

We all look for some meaning in life, We all look for someone to talk to, and when we dont find those things, we all feel the same. In a way we are never truly alone. I dont want to go to school but at the same time I dont want to be home. At this point in my life, my daily decision is a question of picking between my two poisons. Either dealing with the dysfunctional antics of my home life or dealing with getting picked on at school, the feud between my former best friends and I, and dealing with a guy that I used to love who hates me now. I was the product of a union that consisted of a military woman and a foreign, nave gentleman with a weakness for blue-eyed women. My dad told me he wanted me to look like my mom. He wanted to have a little girl with tan skin, blue eyes and light brown hair. What he got, was a mini version of himself instead. Maybe naming me a very Hispanic name, Selena, didnt help. The only resemblance I have to my mom is our face shape, short stature, and light brown hair. My parents never told me how they met or how they communicated. It sounds like a great love story; a medic for the American Army meets a doctor from another country and they fall

madly in love. In fact, his first girlfriend was my mother. I never asked for the details of their story, because as their daughter, theres some things Id rather not know. You would think a story like this would have a happy ending and that I would have grown up with a love worth moving countries for. But I didnt. My mother was no stranger to marriage and already had two daughters; the products of high school sweethearts turned sour. They were older than me by seven and eight years when I first met them at the age of four. To them, I was the foreign baby who spoke a different language with a man they didnt like or know. Most of those first few years were filled with anger, hate and jealousy that oozed out of recorded home videos and into my mothers heart. She cant stand to watch videos of our early years to this day without crying. Fast forward a couple years and I no longer know the language I once knew to satisfy the rebellious teens I had to share my life with. Everything had to be simple, everything had to be easy and one language kept the peace. My new sisters were mean, they would play hide-and-seek with me and never find me, told me I was a brat and generally ignored me most of the time. One day my meanest sister threw me in the pool when it was forty degrees out just because I spoke back. I was seven. My parents fought a lot. Mostly about parenting but also about money. I remember hiding under my bed, crying, hiding from their distorted tones and voices. My mothers usually soft voice warped into a screeching dragons wail capable of spitting fire and my fathers usually strong voice turned into an exhausted, sarcastic, defensive and desperate plea. I could see the joy that belonged to my sisters whenever they instigated a fight. But heres a snap shot of my daily life now: Im sixteen, my closet consists mostly of the color black, but I dont really know how to wear make-up and Im attempting to settle into a new clique since I left my old one. I get off my

school bus and wonder how many of my classmates will have mug shots by the time their twenty, when my thoughts are interrupted by obnoxious yelling. Hey! Hey girl! Middle school is next door! I think youre in the wrong place! The wall full of guys wearing reflective blue sunglasses and camouflage jackets laugh at me. I walk by nervously, not enjoying the attention and flick them off. Wow! Thats the smallest bird Ive ever seen! someone shouts. The whole wall erupts in laughter. My intimidation ploy failed. I scurry away pushing the hurtful words further from my ears, rub my fingers over the newly healed cuts on my wrist and attempt to look forward to the day ahead of me. I get to my locker hallway and see Beth and Ruby sitting on the floor listening to music together eating a bag of candy. I attempted to relocate lockers to avoid awkward confrontations with my two former best friends, but nobody was willing to trade and now Im stuck dealing with it everyday. And lucky for me, I have a bottom locker. I sit down on the floor and go through my things, separating what I need for the day from what I dont. I feel something hit my head and I reflexively reach for it. I hear it hit the ground and see a giant paper ball rolling away. I look up to catch Rubys cold stare. Oops sorry, the trash can is right behind you! Beth giggles but when I look at her she stops and doodles on her notebook instead. I roll my eyes. Great aim. You fail at throwing as much as you fail at everything else, I say. She retorts without hesitation, at least I dont fail at getting people, or guys in general, to like me. My face flushes but I hope she doesnt see it. Its not your personality they love. I mean, youre not really a challenge and boys at this point in life are lazy, I say. She gives me a disgusted look but it soon vanishes with confidence. He sure loved everything about me. I close my locker and leave. It sucked. The day it happened and the following days, weeks and months. I sensed someone approaching as I sat on the floor talking with Ruby and Beth. I turned towards the doorway to see Josh walking our way. Josh, the guy I had a huge crush on for

months. I smiled, happy at his presence, except something was wrong with my perfect picture. He wasnt looking at me. He was looking at Ruby. My heart dropped in my chest and I got a bad feeling. He was a little too focused on her and he looked so serious. It was like watching something so terrible but not having the ability to look away. He swiftly came over and smiled the smile I loved, at her. Hey Ruby, can I talk to you over here? he asked while pulling tightly on his backpack strap. She stood up, looking unsure but replied happily, Sure! Whats up? In hushed tones but still within earshot I heard him ask her out. I couldnt breathe. Its something Id never felt before, its a feeling Id never let anyone make me feel. Heartbreak. I heard her surprise and the silence that followed the question. She knew how I felt about him but I knew she wanted to say yes. I decided to make it easy for her. Beth sat on the ground torn between the two of us not really sure what to do. Waituh Sele- Beth says, trying to stop me from leaving. I picked up my bag and left the hallway, feeling crushed. Rejected. Like always. But heres the long story short: Ruby said no, Josh blamed me because Ruby said I told her to say that, Beth and Ruby started teaming up against me over every little thing, and I stopped being friends with them. A year later I dated Josh for seven months and Ruby was mad I didnt say no like she did, so he cheated on me with Ruby. He told me he only felt bad for me, that I was a waste of a life and that he never cared for me. Meanwhile, Beth really did nothing. She just never stood up for me and so I left everyone. That was two months ago. Josh still randomly texts me awful things just for fun. Just to torture me. Hey Selenatheres something in your hair My thoughts are interrupted while sitting in math class. My new friend Jessica looks at me with concern as she takes a seat before class begins. I comb through my hair and feel my finger get stuck on something sticky.

What the hell is in my hair? I ask. Jessica leans in closer and cautiously peers over. It looks like a hard candyhow did that happen? she says. That bitch! I angrily shout. I immediately regret my words as Mrs. Keller looks at me from erasing the board. Excuse me Selena? she says. Im sorry Mrs. Keller. I didnt mean to say it, theres something I need to do and its an emergency, Ill be right back. I run off to the bathroom before she even has a chance to say anything. Technically class hasnt started and I never cause trouble. Im sure she wont mind if I rebel just this once. I run to the bathroom, take out my brush, grab a paper towel and attempt to rinse and pull the candy out of my hair. Ugh. Hate her. I hate her, I mumble to no one in particular. A girl walks into the bathroom as Im brutally yanking at my hair trying to dislodge the stubborn hard candy. It was probably extremely wet when she threw it, so it dried and hardened. Do you need some help? the girl asks. I finally look at the girls face and realize who she is. Its Rose Madison, a senior and one of the only nice cheerleaders on the team. I only know about her because of the tragedy that happened to her family last year. It was plastered on the news for days. I also knew her sister before the tragedy because people would always mix us up. For some weird reason we have a strong resemblance to each other. For a while I was concerned and maybe a little hopeful, when I researched my family tree seeing if we were in anyway related. We arent. We just look a lot a like. Or at least we did look a lot alike. No, but thank you! I say embarrassed by my predicament. Her eyes linger on me but she says softly, Okay. I finally get the candy out along with small clump of my hair. Awesome, I mutter. Now I can continue hating life.

*** The words repeat and echo as I rise to the surface of consciousness. I can feel my sleepiness fading and something pulling me out of it. But the worst words always find a way to be the first words on my mind. Why dont you just kill yourself? Nobody would care. They were so cruel and hurtful. How can you live with yourself saying these words to someone you once loved? Or said you loved? How much hate can you have for someone who tells you no? No Im not ready. Im only fifteen. I want to wait. But he got it from Ruby and all I got were the words, why dont you just kill yourself? Nobody would care. You were such a waste of time. I wake up crying sometimes because those words find me before I even wake up. And they repeat like a broken record until Im yanked away from my nightmares. I wake up to my parents yelling about my sister Susan. She needs us to look after her kids again so she can go out to the club and my dad isnt happy it. Having kids at seventeen hasnt made my sister the best mother and her kids are kind ofa handful. It didnt help that she had two right off the bat, twins. I bury my face in my pillow and feel my wrist burn when I slide it against the fabric. Its my skin yelling at me that its in pain from the cuts. But its still not as loud as the avalanche of broken things in my heart and soul sliding down the mountain of my sanity. I beckon sleep to find me again, to help me fight another day. It does. *** Gotta think, gotta think of the right words to say, They come and go, back and forth, like an ocean wave, Youre a beauty, trying to believe, but looking for an escape, Ill be there, by your side, when its time, when its fate. - Selena I stare at the four lines of poetry not really knowing how to feel. I would have thought this was meant for someone else, maybe put in the wrong locker, if I didnt see my name at the

bottom staring back at me. My checks flush, my heart races, I cant help but smile and wonder what this note could possibly mean. Was this a love note? Did I have a secret admirer? It felt nice to have someone take the time to actually write me poetry. It made me feel special, wanted, understood and appreciated. I fold the note in half and stick it in my back pocket. Suddenly the day didnt seem so bleak. But my paranoia found a way to ruin my newly found optimism and I wondered if Ruby was behind it. Luckily, Ruby didnt like wasting her time on me. She only picked on me whenever it was convenient for her. This didnt seem like her style. And I hang onto that hope as I go meet up with Jessica for lunch. *** Throwing the old pages away It's time to start a new chapter Tomorrow is going to be a better day Another happily ever after -SelenaIn an effort to establish a stronger bond with my new friend Jessica I decide to finally open myself up and tell her about my secret poet. Do you think its a prank? I ask showing her the two notes of poetry. She nods her head and crosses her arms, thinking. Well, what would a prankster really have to gain by spreading optimism? Id appreciate getting quotes in my locker like this everyday, she says. Yeah. Youre right. Its not hurtful. And who knows? Maybe someone likes me. A really sweet guy obviously. She looks worried. Just dont put your heart too much into it. She pauses for effect and then says dramatically, I mean you dont even know what he looks like. What if hes like, really ugly?

I laugh. Oh my gosh what if it was Ken Rogers! She looks confused. The guy who picks his nose during forth period? she asks. Yes! I say. Then I would have to tell you no my friend. No matter how much of a sweet talker he is. I finally made the right friend, one who knows when to give realistic advice but to top it off with something comedic to make me feel better. Maybe things really are looking up. *** Im actually excited for school. And Im surprised. I dont even remember the last time I was actually early for the bus. The bus driver even looks impressed that my morning didnt start off with me running after him, yelling for him to stop. I take a seat and put my headphones on to listen to music when I feel a tap on my shoulder. Its Ryan, he lives three streets over and hes kind of a pervert but hes usually nice to me. Hey, whats up? I whisper. Its still dark outside and everyone on the bus is dead quiet and still half asleep most mornings. Hey, do you want these pop-tarts? I hate this flavor and they are just going to get crushed in my backpack. What? Free food to snack on? And cookie dough flavor? This day is golden. Yes. Thank you Ryan. I take them and smile. Ill ignore for this moment that Im happy because of food, but whatever. Its a start. Cool. And oh by the way, you actually look pretty today. He says as he quickly returns to his seat. Im insulted but flattered. Thank you? *** With each step she takes she becomes seen, she feels light despite the loss of her wings, the one with answers has no clear need,

no wishful whispers, only her newfound dreams. -SelenaOut of all the poems left in my locker I could relate to this one the most. Its been a week of poems already and I wasnt sure if another one was going to be in my locker today. But it is. Tears threaten to escape from my eyes but I hold them back and let the warmth of the words fill me instead. Somebody knows how to write my feelings out better than I do. I dont know who this person is but its like they know me. I unrealistically wonder for a second if this was advice from my future self. I hope this poet never stops this. They make it easier to get up in the morning. Im getting excited for school because Im actually looking forward to my poem of the day. I cant wait to share this poem with Jessica. *** And I was doing so great lately. All my assignments have been on time and Ive been doing most of my homework but of course, I forget my assignment in my locker. I know if I ask the teacher she wont let me go get it. So I raise my hand and lie instead. I tell her I need to use the restroom. Shes still collecting assignments when I ask, so when she nods approval I quickly grab the pass, and run to my locker before she tells me to hand it to her first. I open the door leading to my hallway and the bathroom pass slips from my grip at what I see. Theres a girl sticking a note in my locker. My secret poet was not how I imagined. Im confused at first, not sure if maybe my secret admirer is a girl, and then angry, because I recognize this girl and know she isnt into girls like that. Its Rose Madison. I thought she was nice but this must be some cruel prank. I quickly march over to her and she jumps back startled. My hands tighten into fists and I plant myself in front of her. What the hell? Is this some kind of sick joke? Pranking someone like this is just cruel! My throat tightens and tears sting at my eyes, but I fight back refusing to unleash them. She stutters and puts her hands up in defense I-I can explain. Just ca-calm down.

I hate when people tell me to calm down. What? I am calm! Look I know youre not a lesbian so dont try to tell me you have feelings for me or something like that! No! Its not like that! Not like that at all! I did it because I wanted to save you! Out of all the answers this was one I was not expecting. Save me? Save me from what? What the hell are you talking about?! Her eyes start to water, she looks at me with genuine concern, and Im conflicted to stay angry. What are you saving me from? Why would you possibly care about me?! I scream determined to stay angry. Tears roll down her checks and she softly speaks. Because you look so much like her. You look so much like Christy. And I know the signs because I saw them with her, but I ignored them. I wont ignore them ever again. Her voice cracks as she says the last sentence. She grabs my arm without looking down. The light from the windows catches my wrist and emphasizes with a soft glow, the cuts I made on my arms. My own self-hatred written on my skin. My mind is taken back to the previous year when her younger sister Christy was plastered all over the news. Christy hung herself in her closet. Her family was devastated and soon moved from their house but decided to stay in the area. It must have been eerie for Rose to look at me when I remind her so much of Christy. Still, my heart is broken, what she did was a cruel trick and I dont know how to respond. I yank my arm back when I see heads peaking around the corners of open doors. Classmates are eavesdropping on our loud scene. Tears finally escape my futile attempts to keep them in and I quickly turn away, out the door, leaving Roses whimpering cries echoing throughout the hallway. *** Well if Rose thinks its okay to invade my personal life, Im sure she wont mind if I invade hers. My hand shakes out of nervousness as I reach up to ring the doorbell of the Madison household. Her mother answers the door and I stand quietly for a few seconds on their doorstep

like a foreign creature waiting to be invited in. She looks at me with intensity and I finally break the silence. Is Rose home? I ask. She snaps out of her trance and immediately shakes her head. Yes! Let me get her, or just come inside and Ill grab her for you. She smiles and opens the door welcoming me in. Their house is everything I imagined it to be, a gorgeous white winding staircase leading up to the bedrooms, a chandler above a small table in the middle of the foyer with a plant on it, a grand piano in the living room and professional family portraits decorating the walls. It looked like the kind of perfectly clean and professionally designed house I see in magazines. A house made to look like perfection in hopes that the family living in it would be just as perfect. Sadly, I knew the truth. I knew their imperfection, their missing piece, and their heartbreak. As the heartbreaker who abandoned her family smiles at me from the portraits as I sit down on the Madisons overly cushioned couch; making me feel like a tiny doll. What would you like to drink? Mrs. Madison asks. Water is fine, Thank you. I say as I awkwardly bounce around trying to find a comfortable spot without sinking into a crack. She lingers a while, and her eyes find my wrist as I pull out a pillow from behind me. Her eyes widen and she scurries away when I make eye contact with her. It seems my personal problem is obvious to every Madison. I sigh and lean back in the couch. I close my eyes for only a second when a soft voice breaks the silence. Hi SelenaI wasnt expecting you, Rose says. Yes, isnt it inconvenient when someone forces themselves into your life? Off putting isnt it? I say. Im sorry for what I did. Im sorry if I lead you to believe it was a secret admirer. I was just trying to help. I know if I just went up to you, and tried to talk to you about it, you wouldnt have listened.

Im silent for a moment imagining the scenario in my head. Shes right. I wouldnt have listened. I dont trust people easily and I wouldnt have believed her. No. I wouldnt have listened to you. I honestly dont even know how to feel about it all. Im angry because it felt like a cruel trick but at the same time the poems were never really romantic. They were more optimistic and positive. They started to really mean something to me and they made me happy. They made the days easier to get through because it felt like someone genuinely cared to even notice me. I sigh. Feeling the relief of sharing such a heavy burden of honesty. Maybe, we can be friends. I think everyone deserves to have someone to talk too. And I see how you get picked on, the old friends you left and I know change can be difficult. I dont mean to come off like a creepy, secret admirer because Im not like that. Im just not very good at knowing how to talk to people about serious things like that. I was trying to do what I should have done before. I look at my hands, not wanting to meet her eyes and remember what it was like to have someone like Ruby and Beth to talk to, even though they sucked at listening, it was still sort of better than no one. Maybe having a friend like Rose, who actually notices the signs, who cares enough to reach out and look like a fool, wouldnt be such a terrible idea. I think we can do that, I say with a smile. Maybe this life isnt as terrible as I thought. *** Never settle for anything less than what you deserve, Never let someone talk to you like you dont feel, Never let anyone question your self worth, Those who stand and remind you of these things, are real.