Same Ol' - Mel Afoa

She silently writes a about life,
while they talk behind her back.

She looks at the comments, written on the busiest social website online. She watches as more comments show up on her laptop screen, words of hate and jealousy stuck in her vision. She looks at the people who comment, and notices one of her closest mates.
She thinks of writing back, knowing full well she has the ability of making an excellent come-back blog. She looks at the picture of her mate, the memories fading in her soul. Anger is pulling her strings, and she furiously begins typing away on the laptop, speeding with no stops. As she finishes, she reads back and realises what she has done. Fury seeped it's way from her heart into her veins, sending messages of hate towards her brain, and making her lose control. She reads the blog and sees many swear words and hateful sayings directed to the people who talked about her.

 

She looks to the sky, and notices it is her favourite blue. She looks around in her room, and sees happy posters and her prized possessions scattered across the room. She looks at the countless posters of the people she most admires. She looks at her laptop screen and see's the London Eye as her background picture, a place she desperately wants to visit in the future.She notices the things she loves around her. She looks back at the computer. She sees the blog. She turns her attention back on her bedroom. Love and life stare back at her. She looks at the laptop, back to the blog.

She remembers the conversation she had with many caring teachers. She had shed tears after finding out how much hate was on her back. Tears fell from her eyes when she realised her closest friends became her worst enemies. She had run to the library, one of her trusted sanctuaries. She had run to the books that offered comfort and contentment. She had sulked there for a short period of time before her caring teacher came to her rescue. He had told her that she need not fear the hate that crawled on her back. It was not only hate, but jealousy. He forced her to lift her head up, her chin in the air. He told her to stand strong, to not look back, and to be in control.

Her favourite teacher had told her to grow up. It was the Same Ol' crap they always brought. She forced her to open her eyes and look around. Her classmates were there. The whole school was at her feet. She was their leader. Teachers were all behind her. And that was all she needed. Her favourite teacher had forced her to look to the future, and to ignore the hate and jealousy that followed her every move. And so she tried.
She begins to find sense and presses the backspace on her keypad. She erases the hateful blog, the words a mixture of smart come-backs and hateful, advanced sayings. She knows she has better things to do. She knows she is better than what everyone gives her credit for. She looks at the sky again. Her favourite blue has turned even brighter. She looks back at her laptop and begins to write a blog, something she has a deep passion for. She begins to write about happiness, and how teachers are the truest of friends. She begins to give lessons to her many fellow bloggers, and deep within, her heart begins to walk out of the hospital once more.

She looks back at the memories she has shared with her old trusted friends. She notices her smile is the only truthful one. She looks at their expressions. Fake smiles meet her eyes. She begins to smile herself, knowing she will still cherish the fun times she has had. Slowly, but not regretting it, she dragher mouse to the folder of all the fake memories, right-clicks, and presses delete.