"It's Graduation Day…it's finally here," I smiled. "The time when we get to celebrate and look forward and forget about looking back. The day when we forget who the mean girls were, who the dumb jocks were, who the straight-A, 5.0 gpa geeks were, who we crushed on, who we went out with and sometimes we even forget who are best friends were." I paused as an emotional pain shot through my heart and floated in my stomach. Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I continued, "some of these things we don't want to forget, but in order for us to move on and become the true people that we are destined to be, we have to. So, may we spend these last precious hours together and relish in the horrific, scary, wonderful, most amazing, absolutely untradeable moments all of us shared together, and let us never forget these people, these people that we won't remember, are the people that made us who we are today." I looked up into the giant commerce of people and caught the eye of the boy that inspired this deep, critical speech.
"Thank you," I said, and retired to the line of people that would represent our class.
Everyone clapped solemnly and I dipped my head down, looking at the floor.
"Thank you, everyone that was your Class President, Samantha James." The clapping continued as my eyes began to tear up with sadness. The procession continued with more speeches and then the crossing of the stage where each individual got to receive their diplomas. I had the horrible honor of reading out each and every last name while the valedictorian got to hand each person their rolled up parchment.
I pronounced each name clearly as I had remembered them over the four years, and only stuttered on one name, the name that would haunt me forever.

"We're so proud of you!" My mother engulfed me with her arms and suffocated me with what I knew was her heart full of love.
"Well done kiddo," my dad told me, holding out a fist for me to bump in his un-cool, dad-like way.
We stood out on the grassy knoll of Plymouth High overlooking only a small portion of Montana's stretching fields. Many of the kids were squealing and laughing. Camera flashes continuously went off. Girls hugged, guys high-fived, and I stood there with the two people that loved me the most.
I had made it through four long, torturous years and now I stood, summer approaching, skin not getting any tanner and three months to sit around until the first day of college. Exciting, I think not.

Friends didn't even come into the picture considering I had none due to my over-achievement in high school and nobody agreed with my straight forward, opinionated attitude. People just sort of stayed away, and nobody bothered to at least attempt to become my friend.
I did have acquaintances if you count the rest of the student officers, but even at certain times they hated me because of my goal-orientated ways, and okay, I sometimes let them have a word in edge-wise, because I came up with all the good and important ideas. What more did we need.
"Are you ready to go sweet heart? We have to make it home before the rest of the family shows up." I nodded and followed my parents to our sweet mini van parked at the curb's edge. The automatic door opened and I stepped in, holding up the bottom of my dark blue graduation robe.
The van started and I dreamily stared out of the tinted window at all of the students still conversing and picture taking, something I would never had the chance to be a part of.

We pulled up to our white, two-story sub urban family home. Blue shutters decorated the sides of the window, and a dark red door welcomed anyone that came for a visit.
Sliding off my leopard print ballet flats, I picked them up and carried them up the carpeted stairs to my room where I shut the door behind me and threw my shoes into the closet where the rest of my shoes lay wistfully about. I closed the window blinds, blocking out the noon-time sun and taking a seat at my computer, turning to Facebook for a friend to share some gossip. As it turned out, everyone was still hanging with friends or family and nobody was worried about changing their status to anything remotely interesting.
I moved the cursor into my own status bar and typed: High School, it was here and then it was gone, but there's still something missing.
I waited a few more minutes, stalking some people I internally thought were interesting and then deciding it was a waste of time I logged off and threw my head back with a harrumph.
"Samantha! Aunt Marilyn is here with Carolyn and Sarah," my mom yelled up the stairs with her high-pitched, clearly heard voice. I sat up in my computer chair and began walking over to the closet. Starting from the bottom, I slowly bunched up the dark blue silk material and brought it over my head letting it fall off of me. I picked it up and pulled out a hanger, smoothing out the creases and placing it solely in the middle of the closet rung.
I sighed staring at it, realization yet to hit me that I would not step another foot inside Plymouth High with the initiative to learn or open a text book.
"Samantha!" My mother called again, in a more demanding tone than the last.
"Coming," I replied, swinging open my door and racing down the steps to embrace my blonde, perfect ten aunt and her two spoiled and annoying children.

"Wow, Samantha, did you get highlights?" Carrie asked, playing with a strand of my hair.
I nodded, "Yes," and pulled the strand from her evil fingertips.

Carrie was the same age as me, and she also was a graduate from Plymouth High. She was a part of the popular crowd and when not in the range of either of our parents would speak to me, let alone send me a second glance.
Her sister, Sarah on the other hand didn't seem to have the evil, conniving genes of her sister, and only stood there and smiled shyly. She stood tall at my height, but was three years younger, now going into her sophomore year. She maintained her equally attractive good-looks but took it upon herself to be a nice, generous, caring person around anyone. I loved her as a cousin. Carrie on the other hand, I could do without.

"Mom, how long are we going to be here?" Carrie asked, picking at her manicured fingernails.
"Aunt Tina invited us over so that you and Samantha could share your graduations together. She has dinner cooking and everything."
Carrie yawned, "Can't I at least go next door to Congratulate Jake?
"What, congratulate him by rubbing his penis?"
"Samantha!" My mom exclaimed along with Aunt Marilyn creating a large 'O' in repulsion and surprise.
I looked down ashamedly, not believing I said it aloud in front of my mother.
"Don't worry mum," Carrie started with a look of disgust, "I have never and will never do anything that gross."
"Samantha Harriet James, you go to your room and think about what you just said.
"Yes, mother," I responded.
As I walked toward the face of the stairs, Carrie walked next to me, and our mothers walked towards the kitchen with Sarah to get something to drink.
"It really sucks you got sent to your room," Carrie said, imitating sympathy. "It's really too bad, considering you were right."
I stopped and turned to look at her questioningly.
"I was planning on congratulating Jake, but I wasn't planning on using my hands. I was gonna use my mouth." And then she turned out the front door, shutting it after her.
A sense of nausea washed over me, and the image of Carrie, sucking Jake Felton's dick almost made me vomit.
I fell onto my bed, hugging my pillow and staring at the closed blinds blocking all outside forces. My eyes grew heavy and my head lolled to the side as I fell asleep.