The invitation arrived on a Saturday morning, and I just stared at it as if my past was coming back to haunt me. I hesitatntly opened up the letter and asked my wife to read it to me. My greatest fear was realized when she read the following:

Dear Mike, It is that time again. We request your presence at our 20th high school reunion. Meet your friends and share what you have accomplished and where you are going.

My mouth dropped and I dropped my head. I have become successful, but the memories caming flowing back to me. The torment and bullying I received at the hands of one class mate, Jack Tormento, how fitting of a name that I will never forget. I felt a great fear bubble from within my stomach and felt physically ill and told my wife that I was not going to go.

Jennifer smiled and said “You have to show them how far you’ve come Mike. You have become such a successful artist. You’ve avoided this for so long its time to face your enemies with your head held high.” I smiled at her and sighed “You are right it is time. I’m going and going to show them how much I’ve accomplished over the years.”

I walked away from the table with a large smile on my face and the fear replaced with a sense of pride thanks to my loving wife.

i used to dream

id assume her position at my middle school

id make a positive difference in the lives of kids just like she did to me and so many others

but the thing is

i dont want to

be in the same building that kept me alive in my darkest days?

walk the halls i grew up in?

the ones i first admitted i didnt want to be alive in?

the ones where i told her i cut myself the night before?

the ones where she gave me a hoodie that i still have in my closet

halfway across the world

do i want to go to back or

is it better as a memory

a bittersweet dream

On a sunny day Rachel drove, and she saw her old school. She suddenly stopped, and decided to visit. Rachel wanted to see how the school was doing. She entered, and memories suddenly filled her head. Rachel remembered her friends. Most of them, she had already lost contact with. She also remembered her teachers, and what it was like to be in class. Rachel remembered what she learned. She remembered what things were like during breaks, and the snacks and lunch that were made for her. Sandwiches and meals with rice. Rachel remembered how young she was during her years there. She felt a strong longing to be young again. Someone opened the door. It was him. The classmate she liked. She suddenly felt young again.

I was not planning on being here. I did not have fond memories of this place. I didn’t even want to be here. And yet, here I was, back at my old high school. I walked by the stairs I had broken my foot on. That was not something I wanted to think about. I didnt even look at the math classroom. That was also not something I wanted to relive. Really, no matter where I went, I didn’t want to be.

As I walked through the familiar halls of my old high school, memories flooded my mind. It had been nine years since I transitioned from male to female, and returning to this place felt like stepping into a time capsule. The whispers and stares that once haunted me were now replaced with confidence and self-assurance. I had come a long way since then.

As I made my way to the cafeteria, I noticed a figure sitting alone at a table. It was a face I recognized, but couldn't quite place. Curiosity got the better of me, and I approached cautiously.

"Excuse me, do I know you?" I asked tentatively.

The person looked up, his eyes widening in recognition. "Oh my God, it's you! It's Simon, right?"

I smiled, relieved that he remembered me. "Yes, that's me. But, I transitioned. I’m a woman now. My name is Sarah!”

"It's me, Alex! We were in the same math class back in sophomore year," he replied, a hint of excitement in his voice.

Memories of Alex flooded back, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia. We had been friends, but our paths diverged after high school. I had always wondered what had become of him.

We sat down together, catching up on the years that had passed. Alex had become a successful lawyer, and I was proud of his accomplishments. As we talked, I couldn't help but notice a subtle change in his demeanor. His eyes lingered on me a little too long, and his compliments felt a bit too intense.

Days turned into weeks, and our friendship grew stronger. We spent more and more time together, reminiscing about the past and sharing our dreams for the future. But beneath the surface, a dangerous undercurrent began to emerge.

One evening, as we sat in a dimly lit café, Alex leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sarah, I have to confess something. I've always had feelings for you, even back in high school when you were Simon."

My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a mix of emotions. I had never considered the possibility of a romantic relationship with Alex, but his words stirred something within me. The temptation was undeniable, but I knew I had to tread carefully.

"Alex, I appreciate your honesty, but we need to be cautious. We have a strong friendship, and I don't want to jeopardize that," I replied, trying to maintain a sense of morality.

He nodded, disappointment evident in his eyes. "You're right, Sarah. Our friendship means the world to me, and I don't want to lose that either."

Days turned into weeks, and our friendship continued to flourish. We supported each other through life's ups and downs, always there to lend a listening ear or a comforting shoulder. The temptation lingered, but we both knew that crossing that line would forever change our dynamic.

One evening, as we sat on a park bench, watching the sunset, Alex turned to me with a bittersweet smile. "Sarah, I've come to realize that our friendship is more important than any romantic feelings I may have. I don't want to lose you, and I'm willing to let go of those desires."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I reached out to hold their hand. "Alex, you have no idea how much that means to me. Our friendship is precious, and I'm grateful for your understanding."

In that moment, we both knew we had made the right choice. Our friendship had weathered the storm of temptation, emerging stronger than ever. We continued to support each other, celebrating each other's successes and offering a shoulder to lean on during difficult times.

As I left my old high school that day, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude. I had revisited a place that once held painful memories, only to find solace and strength in an unexpected friendship. And in that journey, I had learned the power of temptation and the importance of staying true to oneself.

𝖬𝗒 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝗎𝗌𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗈𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗐𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈 𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍. 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾,𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖺𝗍. 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇. 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗉𝗅𝖾'𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝗉𝖺𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄𝖾𝗇𝖽.

𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖨𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖨 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗈𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖩𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝗎𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗍.

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗌𝗈 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖿𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗒 𝗌𝖺𝗋𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗋𝗆𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗎𝗉𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗌.

𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖻𝗒 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗎𝗍𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍

As I pull up, the now Tattered banners with The old school logo Dangle from rusted metal poles

The broken doors Have fallen of their hinges As I approach

When I step inside, Old locker doors Snap and fall with Clangs to the floor

This place was once My home. And I loved it People sprinting through The long hallways, The spot where I met my husband

Footsteps distract me I turn around My husband approaches me A tiny toddler waddling behind him He wraps his arm around my shoulders And the kid grips my leg

These two are family I tell myself And that’s something special

Coming back to Xithurald High School was the last thing Obahri thought he would ever do.

It’s not like he was the loser of the school, he had popularity. But he didn’t have the loyalty from certain people, or the love he wanted.

He was surprised the school gates were still open, even after school had just finished today.

It had been eleven years since he last been here, which means he skipped his class reunion. Now that he saunters down the hallways, he felt like he could’ve went, but at the time he didn’t wanna see none of their crusty faces.

“Mr. Jhiseic!” A male voice called out.

Obahri turned and immediately recognized who it was. “Mr. Wataniel.” He replied, barely smiling.

“You know you’re a year late for a class reunion, right?” Mr. Wataniel said.

“You know I don’t care, right?” Obahri responded.

Mr. Wataniel tugged Obahri to walk with him. “So what takes you to come here?”

“Just had an urge to see how this school was doing since I’ve been gone.”

Mr. Wataniel scoffed. “You act like you’re a celebrity or something.”

“I’m not, but I am a drop-shipper now. Have a wife and two kids.” Obahri smiles as Mr. Wataniel widened his eyes.

“That’s amazing!” He said like a proud father.

Obahri abruptly halted when he looked into the cafeteria. Confused, Mr. Wataniel looked back and forth from the cafeteria to Obahri. He ask, “What are you looking at?”

Obahri stared for a little longer before saying, “You remember when I got into a fist fight in there and you had to break it up?”

“Yeah,” Mr. Wataniel chuckled. “You really fought Esserien over Tievauma.”

“No! He fought me over Tievauma. That girl was weird. She literally wanted everyone to refer to her as Mermida ‘cause she believed her spirit came from the seas.”

Mr. Wataniel face burned a bright red from laughter. “And I’m just now knowing about this eleven years later.”

“I thought teachers talk.” Obahri said.

“You’re looking at the principal of the school now.” Mr. Wataniel said pointing two thumbs at himself.

“Congratulations!” Obahri shook his hand as he nodded in gratitude.

“Yep. Don’t have to train these deficit students how to spell or sound out the most simplest words.” Mr. Wataniel shot a look at Obahri, whom looked at him funny and had to retract his statement. “I mean, not everyone… just… don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Your lips were very good at that in my reading class.” Mr. Wataniel pointed out.

“That’s because that class was boring and every time I did speak, Esserien always had to chime in with a slick mouth.”

Mr. Wataniel said nothing, so Obahri continued. “I just can’t believe my friends didn’t wanna hang with me anymore after that fight. Like I initiated it or something.”

“Why do you think they did?” Mr. Wataniel asked.

“Because Esserien made up a rumor that I talk bad about them all the time.”

“I did no such thing.” A random voice blurted out behind them.

Obahri knew who it was.

As I opened the door, the familiar smell of mashed potatoes wafted into my nose. At first glance, such an ordinary smell that every child smells at least once in a while from their kitchen awakened years of memories in me. First friendship, first love and later a relationship that must have ended for some petty reason. I saw it all clearly in front of me as a film in which I was cast as the lead. But all those memories were interrupted by the brand new look of the hall. Nothing was the same. Everything seemed sterile and alien to me. The white floors and walls unadorned with artwork by students could be mistaken for a hospital. If it weren't for the so ordinary smell, I would have thought I had the wrong place.

Alumni blue Whose who Know you? No clue

Hallowed halls Ivory walls Ten feet tall No more calls

Graduation day Come what may No more to say Prance and sway Tessa🦋