The alarm on my phone sends harp noises all throughout my bedroom. How could sweet noises go with such an unpleasant feeling of drowsiness? The music strikes my ears and ricochets off the inside of my head, causing it to ache. I slide my hand out from beneath my warm comforter and shut off the ruckus with a slap. My phone says 6:30.

I roll over in bed and throw a pillow on top of my head trying to block out any light or signal of morning. I am exhausted from the late hours of finishing homework and studying last night.

I need to get good grades if I want to go to a good college. You can only get into a good college if you are smart, so I probably won't be able to succeed at that.

Drearily walking down the stairs of the ladder attached to my bunk bed, my warm toes press into the cold glossy wood. My feet rub against the smooth soft carpet, making me want to curl up in a ball and sleep right there on the ground. My hand grasps the shiny metal doorknob of my closet. I slowly push open the doors, trying not to collapse on the ground, and grab something to wear. I need to look cute for the new boy at school.

Then, I stumble down the empty hallway towards the bathroom. I run a brush through my long tangled hair, the bristles tickling my scalp as it runs along its surface. I throw it up the way all the popular girls do it, in a messy bun. As if I could be that popular some day. I whisk the tiny brush covered in brown mascara through my small eyelashes and cover up all the traces of acne on my face. How could a single kid possibly have so many mistakes?

I hurry down the staircase, being careful not to trip, as my eyes are still half shut. I enter the kitchen and open the fridge. I quickly shovel down a peach yogurt. I've been trying to cut back on food since I'm starting to become fat. As I eat, I snatch a bag of cheddar goldfish to have as a snack later.

I swipe up my lunch off the counter and shove it in my backpack full of all my messy homework, makeup, and a change of clothes. And that's when I realize, while looking at my crumpled possessions.
I remember a time when I was little. I didn't have a care in the world what I looked like, or what I did. I would wear cattail costume glasses out in public, and carry a feather purse everywhere I went. In each image or picture, I was always smiley and so carefree about the world around me. I never knew what would lie ahead in the path of life. I try to go back to these times and cherish the positivity I had in myself.

It used to be that people always had to tell me, "Gabby, calm down!" I would be so open to sharing my emotions. But now it's only, "What's wrong Gabby? You're so quiet."

"Nothing," I always reply shyly. I'm just scared to share what my opinion is.

Other times in class, I am that one kid that never raises their hand and always tries to hide in the back of the class, and when called on, freezes. Sometimes in the past the teacher has asked for the answer to a question in my class and I would be picked.

"What is it Gabby?" my math teacher questioned, not having a clue I was petrified of having all eyes on me.

"Um, um." I stuttered and took a gulp. "It's three," I managed to get out and a deep sigh of relief flooded out.

Most of the time, I want to be outgoing and able to let my spirit run wild and free. And others, I want to just curl up and be hidden from the world, as if an invisible blanket covered me.

I now flop down on the ground and perch near the door to see if my carpool ride is here yet. Socks in one hand, my shoes in the other. I slip on my socks, soft cotton slipping in between my toes. Kids in middle school all have low self-esteem, and we thrive for perfection throughout our everyday lives. To have the best grades in our class, or wear the best looking clothes, or have the best hair, or not to have acne or scars, or not to look fat. If only we would go out into the world, being ourselves for just one day. We could unmask this cover we keep on to hide the real, maybe more embarrassing, us.

I press my feet into each shoe. The world would get to know us so much better as we truly are, and not some fake personality we show to people when we don't have enough confidence in ourselves to show our true colors.

I grasp hold of each lace, cross them and loop it back under, pulling hard, and tying a knot. We would all be so much closer knit if we knew what was going on in each other's lives just enough to reach out and help, even with a simple, "Hello".

I form two bunny ears and overlap them, and pull it through the bottom. We are imperfect but that is ok. If we took one chance, to be what every other kid in middle school doesn't have the courage to be. What might happen? Praise? Honor?

I push off of my knees and stand up, my feet tingling from sitting. I look outside to find my carpool ride parked in the driveway. I fling my backpack on, my shoulders pushed back a little further and my head held a little higher. I step outside into the cool morning air for a fresh start at being myself.