I turn my face away unable to look at you. When my eyes are no longer tear-filled and blurry your microwave is the first thing I see, and the second thing I smell. Whoever thought microwavable meals were a good idea'was wrong, but not as wrong as the dummy that is now eating chicken which smells like feet." Sorry for the lack of scenery" you say rolling your eyes, both knowing how small your office is. I roll my eyes in return and let out a small laugh at the fact we have established that a million times. A laugh, I think for a moment. I think about how it feels as if it has been months since I've been able to even smile let alone laugh. I'm startled and brought back to earth from my day-dream as your phone rings and you answer. It must be the middle school asking where you are. I am able to let out a small smile yet again as I look at the clock. That ten minute break you were given lasted about double that. We look at each other and roll our eyes once more. There must be a world record for how fast the woman on the other line can talk. You end the call with 'I'm sorry, I'll be right over." My hint it's time to go. We walk out of your office neither of us ready to get back to work, you tell me to hang in there, make it through math class and you will have time for me to come and talk tomorrow. I wait until I no longer see your brown mocha curls bouncing as you walk briskly to the middle school. I look down at my flat auburn hair and I am reassured that in fact, yes every part of me has lost its bounce and enthusiasm. I turn and slowly make my way back to algebra, the words repeating in my head 'I'll have time for you tomorrow'I'll have time for you tomorrow'' And even though you have probably said this to me about a hundred times, still I am thankful. You always make time for me, I don't need to wait until you fix things with your boyfriend, or finish talking to my sisters. Or wait for a call later (which then turns into three days later.) You are always there and ready to listen. Always.
'Elizabeth! Elizabeth Grace!' 'My mother always manages to wake me up... I am pretty sure even in a coma that woman could do it. I get up and slam my door; I am even startled at the sudden anger in my veins. I touch my face, Tears? Why was I crying? I then remember'My dream.
I am sitting in your office as an older woman walks in and sits at the desk. I look at her confused, as she rummages through and hands me a note. It's from you. You write of how you 'no longer hold your position at the school, you have left.' I get up and head for the door but it becomes farther and farther away with each step, I start running. Finally the door disappears. I am left in the room with nothing but the older woman, your note and the overwhelming sense of rage.
It was just a dream I say, shaking it off. I forget about it and get ready for school.

I am sitting in first period as the phone rings. I don't pay attention as the teacher answers the phone. It's way too early for you to be calling. That is until; she tells me I am needed in the guidance office. As I grab my stuff shoving it in my book bag, the girls behind me start to whisper; I hear: 'It's really sad.' 'She doesn't know yet?' I look back, but they act as surprised as myself I leave dismissing it. I open the door to your office. I get the sudden feeling of déjà vu. I close the door as you ask me to have a seat. You know that feeling you get when you are trying your hardest not to cry? That giant lump in your throat and brick in your stomach? Well this feeling wasn't even close. You look at me and look away, pretending to be distracted with something on the computer. Something isn't right. I ask what I was doing there so early, and you reply with 'I told you I would make time for you.' I smile in reply, but I have a feeling there's something else' I was right. I have never wished to be wrong as much as I did then. I am suddenly dizzy and completely sick to my stomach. My body is cold and weak, even the hot tears pouring down my face leave me frozen... You're leaving. You're leaving! YOU ARE LEAVING?! I want to scream and kick. I want to yell at you for leaving this school leaving these children, for leaving me. I open my mouth to speak, but I can not. I turn my head away. All I can see is the microwave. 'The infamous head turn' With each word you seem farther and farther away. My mind is spinning, there is so much to say, but I can't seem to find one word.




It's just a dream'It's just a dream...Please just be a dream please.
I drop my head in my hands, pain overflowing my body. I walked through the halls almost ghost-like. The rest of the day is a blur. I see the kids running out side, mouths wide open, but their screams don't follow. I run to my room. 'c sharp f sharp f c sharp f sharp f' The notes in my head, spread to my fingers, I see my hands moving note to note, chord to chord. I play harder and harder, louder and louder. I play with aggression and sadness, heartbreak and rage. I am empty with the music filling my ears. The piano and I are the only ones I hear. The only ones I feel. The only thing I know. I stop with my hands dying of cramps. I close my eyes and pretend I am not here. I pretend this isn't happening. What do I do? What will I do? All I can do is cry.I'm angry. I'm angry at you, no. No, I am angry at myself. For thinking you would be there to help me every step. I was angry for letting myself need you. I am angry because I'm scared. I keep every feeling trapped behind my anger, I am tough this way. Nothing can hurt me.
I open my eyes' It's been a month since you've given me the news and still it feels as if it were yesterday. School is lonely, Home is lonely. I am lonely. I run to my room screaming, I throw my bags down and look under my bed. I find my journals. Your words 'You'll get through it, you'll get through it.' Running through out my head somewhat mimicking me as I tear through every journal, ripping every page. You know I couldn't do it. I can't do this by myself. 'I can't do this, I can't!' I scream and I cry to the ceiling as if it were you. I feel so helpless, as I look around at the scraps of paper. All of my words, my thoughts, my feelings. Every picture, and story, every emotion written on those pages. I stay up for the next three hours, reading and taping up every page. You're words no longer mimicking me, but more-so encouraging me. I can get through this I can. You believed in me, and I now can as well. Things do get tough, but it's a stage of life. I just keep telling myself if I can get through this one thing, When things get hard I think of your words and I am able to believe. When good things happen I smile hoping you will be proud of me. I won't ever stop missing the safe haven that is your office. Nor will I forget your words 'I'll make time for you tomorrow. 'Sometimes that is all you need, the security of having a tomorrow. You helped me so much and continue to with every day. You believed in me; you are not just my guidance counselor but my friend. And I am forever thankful.