Creative Writing: Alisa's Life After High School

Alisa’s long graceful black curls stretched out around her as she shuffled home, her shoulders pained by the weight of her backpack. Her inky eyes darted around, finally reaching her doorstep, looking down at the faded ‘Welcome’. She muttered some vulgar language under her breath, before letting the key click into place, swinging open the front door. Stepping in, the air conditioning washed over her like an cool air bath, and she quickly shut out the heat from outside. The cooled air against her bare skin, she undid untied her shoes and stormed upstairs to her room, quite angry about something- homework to be exact. She had competitive swim practice after this, and that was only two hours to do her homework. There was no way

” Alisa’s parents would always ask this after school, and to be honest, Alisa resented this question. As if her health, physically and mentally, was irrelevant to her precious grades, all As, in school. Lifting her head up in class in response to the teacher’s usual ‘heads up’ she frowned, a faint groan escaping her rosy lips. A yellow bus puttered through the neighborhood, dropping off kids here and there. She could hardly think, let alone care about who got off, and who didn’t. She always sat alone on the bus, the girl in the second two-seater, always staring out the window in a haze. She couldn’t look past all the autumn, the falling leaves, the crunchy sound the leaves made when you smashed it under your foot. It was all so in reach, yet so far away. Another day, another pile of homework. It all felt so pointless, so false, so useless. What was the point? Every so often, she would take a ‘mini break’ checking her email, looking for someone, anyone to remember her. All she found was one email from her mom, telling her to load the

She got that. It wasn’t a difficult concept for her to understand. But really, she thought that life could stop being such a sassy _____ and start being nice to her. She didn’t get it, had she not suffered enough? Would it just be easier to fade away to nothingness? Alisa’s arm looked like a werewolf tried to eat her. There was scarlet red streaks, running down from the tip of her middle finger all the way down to her elbow. And there were many, all over her arm. When questioned at school, she claimed to have been scratched by her cat. Everyone believed her of course; no one knew her well enough to know that she didn’t have a cat. Did anyone care about be at all? Alisa thoughts were covered in doom and gloom, as she stared blankly at her homework. I lied straight at their face, and they didn’t even blink an eye. They just took my word. Nobody cares. The subconscious part of her took over, trying to light up her thoughts with a little glimpse of sunshine, but it just made the darkness darker. After all, even the light casts a shadow. What if Nobody is a person? Her mind turned down the thought easily. Don’t be ridiculous, who names their child