corrupted lungs

I am so incredibly tired of some people.

Some people, I am so tired of.

I just walked through the blustery Missouri wind to Spanish class, with every intention of reading my composition to the class in practice for my English 101 speech later today. I walked into the building and saw three of my classmates coming towards me. “Whats…?” I started before Kelley, who is also my suitemate interrupted me, “You just have to turn in your paper. It’s a sub.” Sam went, “Well it’s not a sub, it’s another teacher.” And I went, “YES!” No Spanish class two class meetings in a row? Why would I not have been excited?

“No.” Kelley lashed out, “It’s not happy. Professor Bourbon’s husband died.”

My face fell, my heart crashed. Everything seemed to freeze. “Oh. Oh my god, that’s horrible.”

“Yeah,” Kelley spat, her voice full of knowledge apparently I am not worthy enough to know nor will I ever be, “It is.”

And we all walked on.

Of course I was happy. How was I supposed to know what had happened? How on earth would I have known that? I hate people as a general rule but I tend to give them the benefit of the doubt first. But now it doesn’t seem to matter. I am just so incredibly tired of some people. Some people, i am so tired of. Why does Kelley think that it’s all right to lash out at me, to twist my feelings over something that I had no idea existed? Why does she think that she is superior to everyone else all the time? Who would want to raise a daughter who thought that way? Not me, that’s for sure.

But at the same time, I am the only one who can control how I feel. And so I walked the longest walk I have ever walked from my Spanish room to my dorm, my hair twisted and running in the wind. My heart mourned for Professor Bourbon. I feared when the moment that is shaping her life right now will become the moment that defines mine. I wrote these words, and now if I want to survive, I have to move on. So I am.

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