Updated: May 3, 2019
Every day I must stand up for myself, I must protect myself because no one else does.
Every day I take bus 309 to middle school AKA my hell.
I'm only 13 and carry the stress of a 21-year-old trying to live on their own.
My middle school life is a straight combat zone.
Living in a car with my mom who sometimes doesn't know what day it is or where our next meal is coming from is tough, I swear whatever drug she takes I wanna take a puff!!!
Just to forget about riding bus 309 to hell.
I'm constantly picked on and bullied.
I should be smiling, making friends, picking out outfits and worried about grades.
But no, I worry about not getting jumped and carrying switchblades.
I had one friend before the other kids bullied her and pushed her away.
Her parents were sick of it, she now lives in Santa Fe.
She knew I only ate at school breakfast and lunch.
She used to bring me extra snacks to get me thru the night to make sure I was all right.
Why doesn't no one want to help me I'm just a kid? I can't comprehend.
What a sad social and economic fight, living in a car, empty stomach, hand me down clothes with dirty hair makes me look like the poster child for "feed a kid".
No one understands or knows.
Teachers avoid me or better yet judge me, but they should judge my mom not a 13-year-old basically caring for self. I wish middle school was over or I had some wealth.
WHY do I have to take bus 309 to hell?
When bus 309 is late I'm Happy,
I crack a smile, less time in middle school hell.
But when I'm late that means all eyes on me, walking on eggshells.
With snickering and glares, Ryan the popular kid shouts from the back of the class,
"Looks like poverty just walked in"! I'm sure his parents taught him that at age ten.
The teacher says nothing but scolds me for being late…Why me?
He can't even read but the kids worship him like he is head of state!
I'm trying to hold on to that positive key that will release me from this poor family tree.
Group projects no one ever wants to work with me,
backs get turned and eyes roll, no one wants to work with the poor black girl.
I make the honor roll every semester. I'm very smart. School work is never a struggle.
Socially and emotionally I have no one to talk too or hug, not even my mom. Teachers only provide extra homework help, not tacos on Tuesday or a mental checkup.
I wonder if anyone else goes through what I go through at 13.
Alone, sad, frustrated, not loved. Just a teen wanting a home cooked meal with protein.
A bright sunny morning that I can't really appreciate because I have to ride bus 309.
Today I walk to a different bus stop, fuck it and enjoyed the fresh air, its springtime.
I will meet bus 309 on the busy intersection of Lemon and Osborn, 7:35 am is the time.
Bus 309 was coming I could see it in the distance.
That damn bus is so persistent.
Cars were zooming past me as I was walking towards Lemon St.
Everything is silent except for my heartbeat.
I made sure the light was proceeding to Go green
That day I released myself in a big city pinball machine,
when I stepped off the curb and stopped bus 309
my Middle School Hell Bus Line.
Bus 309 didn't make it to hell today and neither did I…
“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” – Maya Angelou