Another day goes by. Every day is just like the other when I don’t fit in. When there isn’t a clique that seems just right for me. When I am the only one. No one has the same interests, and no one seems to care.

It is lunch time. People laugh and have a good time. But there are no good times with friends when I am alone. I sit in the corner, people walk by as if I am not even there. From here I look at the lunchroom and see how things are.

There is the group on the side that thinks they are too good for school. The ones that get F’s in every single class, show up late, and do not care at all. They do drugs at home and often get involved in other illegal activities. I am not like them. I care about my grade in school and have maintained a 3.5+ for 3 years.

Then there is the group in the middle filled with sports players, talking about the game on TV last night or their upcoming match against another school. They claim to have dozens of friends, but they seem like the people that would never say a word to them if they were not the big basketball star. I am not like them. I would choose my friends for personality, not fame, however there just seem to be none that fit my criteria.

There is the group of nerds on the other end of the room. The ones who think the only thing that matters in life is doing perfect in school. They get perfect scores and spend every waking moment of free time at home studying. I am not like them. I care about my grade but I care more about making my life worthwhile by actually enjoying my free time. If life is all work, what is the point?

Then there is the group of loud, chatty girls. They seem like nice enough people, but just because they are girls and I am a boy, we don’t talk. Besides, I am not like them. I am quiet, shy. People don’t like to be seen with people like me; for fear that they will be rejected by those “friends” that only like them for their clothes or sports.

This is how high school is. Cliquey, and oblivious to what happens to those left behind. They do not realize that just going out of their way for 2 minutes to say hello and make small chat could prevent the shedding of many tears, or the pain in a family when a student commits suicide. After all, hanging out with your preppy, in style friends is more important, right? Right?

When one has been left behind, every day is just that, a day. Wake up in the morning, go to school, come home, get yelled at for this or that, do chores and homework, 30 minutes free time, then bed. This never ending cycle drags those down when there is no one to cheer them on, when there is not the light of a group of friends waiting for you in the morning. This is the dark life of one left behind in high school.