Words can cover up a lot. They can cover up your true feelings if you want them to. You just have to use the right words.
***
I quickly opened the door to the storage room in the back of the library. As quickly as I opened it, I slammed it shut. There was a fragile curtain over the thin rectangle of a window. I shimmed it over to one side so I could quickly peer out at the main room. With one eye, I see that they're all leaving. The snobby, stuck-up group of catty girls left in their big group all at once like they usually do. I was used to this routine of coming into the back room in the library. Every Wednesday, I did inventory in the library. You see, some girls didn't like that. They thought it was funny that I would rather be in the library checking the stock than sitting in the bathroom and checking my hair. I scurried to the back corner of the storage room and slid down the wall. I was scared. But the room was dark. It was quiet. I liked that. I shut my eyes and just let the tears flow out. I tried to stay as silent as I could as I cried. I was done with this happening to me. But I wasn't exactly sure on how to make it stop.
Suddenly, my silence was broken. The door squeaked open a crack as the doorknob turned. A thin strip of light beamed to the corner of the room. Quickly, I got on my hands and knees and crawled under the table. I didn't care about how much of a fool I looked like; if it was one of those snobby girls, I would have been dead. When the door widened, I saw that it was the student librarian. I took one of the boxes on the tabletop and put it in front of me, trying my hardest to camouflage myself. The student librarian didn't know me very well. She was kind of just there; she didn't really talk to me unless she was absolutely required to. When she saw me, she raised her eyebrow.
"Are you okay?" she asked with a little bit of an edge in her voice.
Was I okay? No. I wasn't okay. I felt like I was imprisoned in my own life. I felt like I was living a nightmare. I didn't have any friends, and everyone teasing me...it was horrible. I felt like exploding every single day. I always felt like breaking down. But I always bit my tongue. I wanted to express how I felt every day, but I couldn't. I was just afraid to be who I really was.
"I'm fine." I said. I got up, dusted my pants off, and walked out of the room. I knew I could have done something. I should have told her everything that was going on. Would she have done something? Probably not. But it would have been good for somebody to know. But I didn't tell her.