High School, the Last Chance at Youthful Freedom

We're almost at the door and everyone's talking and laughing. I don't know what they're so happy about. Don't they understand what's about to happen. When we walk through that door, it begins, the end. I stop, I don't want to go in, I know what's on the other side.

"Come on Vonda, open the door."

Stalled as long as I could, I open the door and, I'm in the auditorium. Everyone finds a seat. I look at the stage, and want to run. I don't need to rehearse graduation, because I don't want to graduate. Someone's on stage saying something, all I hear is a clock ticking.

I like high school, I don't want it to end. It's safe in here. Outside that door is a scary unknown, and I'm not ready to face that yet. I need more time, more time to get ready. Someone nudges me, we're walking toward the stage, times up.

Everyone is happy after rehearsal, talking about college and no more high school. I don't even fake a smile. For three years (our high school is three not four years) this place has provided shelter from my imperfect home life. Not that the entire three years was perfect, it just seems that way. Chemistry, Geometry, SAT's, all things I could've done without, but I'd take it all again to make it last a little longer.

Within a month, I will be a graduate of Manchester High School. They say you have to close one door before another one opens, but I won't believe that. I believe you can keep the door ajar, so you can return if you ever need to.

High school is the last place for youthful freedom. Adulthood is right through the open door, and it is a different world. I will always remember Manchester High School as the place that took me in allowed me to grow within the safety of it's walls. Where will I find that place in the big wide world?