Confusion.

It was like adults at a business meeting.

Professional, but casual. Friendly, but tense. Eagerness, but annoyance.

A little laugh, it pops out here and there.

Uh oh, awkward silence.

Should I say something?

Or is she going to say something?

Oh thank god,

She said something.

Oh wait,

It wasn’t to me.

Together.

Being in the same class, doing a partner project together, learning together, and laughing together. It was exhilarating. 2019, pure, innocent happiness. I remember we sat together during math. In the end we got in trouble, but we laughed, we learnt, and we both remember it clearly to this day.

She flashes me a smile.

I flash one almost as bright as hers back.

And we meet right in the middle.

“Come on! What are you waiting for?”

I open my mouth a little in disbelief.

But I quickly run after her,

Because I will not stand and watch

While she grows smaller

And smaller.

Waiting.

There’s this unofficial tradition, you could say, in my grade.You knew someone was friends with another if they waited for each other at their locker. You find yourself walking straight to their locker, wondering how you knew exactly where it was.

Anxious, wondering if I was doing the right thing.

If I had misread all of our conversations together.

If she would never show up.

But there she was.

Growing bigger

And bigger.

The next day,

She was there too.

Watching

While I grew

Bigger and bigger.

I remember there was a time, someone wouldn’t stop talking about my appearance. Now, I’m not going to say who that “someone” was, but they played a really important role in my life. I thought, “Why does my appearance matter so much?” Not only did they keep mentioning things like “Your skin is so dry” or “You have a lot of acne,” they also kept mentioning my weight and my body. “You should do more workouts, you’re gaining weight” or “Stop eating, you’re eating too much. You’re going to get so fat.” Everything I did, I always felt like it related to my appearance. I laughed whenever someone mentioned it because I didn’t want to seem upset. But honestly, those words hurt, a lot.

I thought that maybe if I started skipping meals, or eating only a little might help, so I tried that. Now when I did, they went “Why aren’t you eating? You’re so skinny eat more.” I didn’t want to seem rude, but in my mind I was thinking things like “You told me I was too fat and needed to eat less, now you’re saying to eat more when I’m eating less?” I was really confused. It seemed as if nothing I do would ever make them happy or stop talking about my body. That went on for years. The jokes started when I was around 9, then the comments started when I was around 11. Now, this is still going on. Yes, these comments do still bother me sometimes but I have realized that there’s really nothing I could do about it. Maybe some people just like to judge a book by it’s cover, so just let them be. I can’t control what others think or say. Life is short and you only get to live once, so why not enjoy it? Other people’s opinion isn’t important, it's yours that matters. Stop focusing on trying to live to other’s expectations and trying to make them happy. You are your number one priority, make yourself happy, make sure you feel safe.

It was on a dull rainy day the incident happened. As much as I would LOVE to blame the mastermind of this plot, I know I was also responsible. One thing I can promise you, is that this story, if made into a video, would’ve become viral.

I trudged through mud thicker than the school’s most infamous student’s skull. Each step was agony, and all my muscles wanted to do was plopping down in that oozing brew of glue. Unfortunately, the petrifying notion of ending up in the principal's office dripping goo and dirtying her prestigious office floor outweighed the desire. After a millennia of analyzing my options and crossroads, I came to the conclusion that to persevere is to defeat the source of my suffering.

Awaiting me on the other side of this swampy nothingness was something. Something so disastrously deformed and glutinous it was impossible to aim my fragile eyeballs at this appallingly hideous creature that my lunatic friend cradled in her palm as if it was a sumptuous, pristine ball of gold!

“C’mon Tri! Look at what I found!” Without waiting for my consent, she sank her clawed hands into my arm’s flesh, and dragged me over. A blurred shape appeared before my eyes. I rubbed them, and squinted… “HOLY-” I shrieked. At that moment, nothing could convince me that my friend’s mind is anything related to saneness. AN ENTIRE HIDEOUT FULL OF THESE ABOMINATIONS! Trudging through ten tons of mud sounded like a more reasonable plan after witnessing what my friend did. I lament the moment I ever decided to set foot inside the mud swamp. But, alas, regret for my actions cannot undo this dreadful mistake, unlike Voldemort’s soul. With two fingers, Lola lifted a tiny creature, gently stroking it's revolting back, coating her finger in an unacceptable amount of slime. I opened my mouth to explicitly, and creatively state my repugnance. Suddently, the ghost of adoration possessed me, and embraced my mindset with its vile, evil talons. I gingerly crept forwards, bouncing the pudding-like body of this abnormal creature, I peered down, cooing at those retracting antenae. The victorious lunatic behind me is surely gleefully snickering with even more wicked plots dancing in her mind. Just as I pulled my hands back...

My eyes were savagely assaulted by jets of liquid, a ghastly shriek tearing out of my throat as I directed my closed eyelids towards where I thought this treacherous thing was. That fleeting moment of curiousity and adoration fled, and horror and nausea drenched me from head to toe. Needless to say, the end result of this epic failure of an experiment according to Lola, is a pile of slimey pulp.

As comedic as my incident, if made into a video, could've been, it loses the entertainment value when you are the one experiencing this scandalizing jet of liquid. The worst thing, is that I never found out which hole it came out of...

Do you have an evening routine? Maybe, Watching some Netflix, reading a book, or just staring at the wall? My evening routine can be summed up like this: My evening routine = a few of the world's most detested creatures + a beautiful sunset - my mom freaking out. You guessed it; entering: moths.

Every evening when the sun is setting, no, sinking into the ocean; I’ll sit in my jammies, pressing my face against the window, sucking in all the vibrant colors at once. Ashen reds, pastel oranges, vibrating yellows, dashes of light greens, softer blues, and so much more… SPLAT! Something furry and small sticks itself to the glass, blocking my view. I try to knock it off. Making sound, turning off the lights, closing the blinds. But the stubborn creature wouldn’t budge. As the sun sank deeper and deeper into the sea, more and more of them came; sometimes in flocks, sometimes alone. This continued until finally, there wasn’t an inch of glass left for stargazing.

Yet these moths, other than annoying, were pretty much miniscule, furry, and obnoxious human beings (let’s face it, we’ve all met those before). They had one goal in mind: to get to the light in my room. When they barged face-first into the barriers, they stayed there. When people tried to stop them, they stayed there. When it was obvious the glass was never going to disappear and let them through, they stayed there. See, in the morning many, many of these moths had succumbed to the cold; lying dead on the windowsill. But those who still had an ounce of energy within them were still grabbing on, grabbing on, to their dreams…

In life, there will always be some sort of dream, some sort of light that we all chase. But how many of us will stay that way after the barriers, after the hardships, after we think we’re all alone?

In a way, we’re all moths.

So go chase that light.

My name is Cici. I grew up in Jiangsu, China. We moved to Canada when I was only three years old.

It was my first day of kindergarten at this new school I didn’t even know. I could barely speak English and couldn’t understand what my teachers were saying. Lack of English meant I didn’t have any friends. What I thought was a greeting from one girl, turned out to be a frown of disgust. She pushed me off the swing and then proceeded to make fun of me. That was a day I’ll never forget.

As that year went by, it was finally time for 1st grade. I had no one as my friend for the first day again. No wonder, people thought I was a loser! First recess has gone by just sitting on a bench. Suddenly, another Asian girl came up and sat beside me. I was too scared to look up at her. Eventually she just looked down at me. She smiled, without further inspection, I could see all the missing teeth she had. “Yuck!” I muffled quietly. She ran away crying. I remained friendless for the rest of grade one.

The day I was finally moving onto 2nd grade made me happy. The one thing that upset me was making that little girl cry. I found out that her name was “Sophie.” She moved to a new school that year. I felt so guilty about what I said. I was in a pit of shame. To this day, I still regret how I acted.

The year after the incident, our moms ran into each other at a grocery store one day. Sophie came to my house for a playdate. It was awkward at first, I guess she remembered me and what I did. I said I was sorry for teasing her and she accepted my apology. Playdate followed a birthday party, then weekend dinners and we became best friends. I’m so grateful that she and I were able to make up. I am happy to have a friend like Sophie.