A single memorable day in my life… I don’t think I could come up with a single one that isn’t also connected to a sad memory. First of all, I’m going to open up by saying that in my life everything comes with strings attached. Besides, I wasn’t asked to only write about the good, like some awesome day at Universal Studios or my 13th birthday when I finally became a teenager, just a memory that stands out in my mind. One great memory of my eighth-grade graduation comes with several tiny tangled strings that seem to choke me when I’m minding my business. Of course, just because a memory is horrible, doesn’t mean it isn’t an interesting story to share. So without further ado, my eighth-grade graduation and how it ended up a literal wreck.
I woke up on graduation day and the world seemed colorful. There were the exciting colors, the colors that were calming, and of course some gray because at the time I was struggling with severe depression. I wasn’t going to let my depression get in the way of my big day, though. The agenda was simple and would lead up to me getting dressed for graduation and sitting down for dinner with my family at Chilies. The dinner was a huge deal because I was going to sit down and dine with my mother after we had been separate for two years. This was because we both agreed that we were better off apart from each other for a while due to our constant fighting.
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Needless to say, I was terrified and my anxiety was justified because it ended up going just as planned. We sat at the table while my mom made rude and uncalled-for remarks until I left for the bathroom in a full-blown panic attack where it took several minutes for my Abuela to calm me down. I got my things together and sat back down at that table with my head up high because I would soon graduate and spend the rest of the night with my two best friends, Kari and Keegs.
Finally, we get to graduation! I was in the worst mood ever, my mom had indulged in quite a few glasses of wine, my best friends both looked better than me, and I was the only one wearing heels while everyone else was wearing cowboy boots. It was horrible being the odd one out so when the time to walk the stage, I rushed, grabbed my diploma, looked around, and avoided all eye contact with my family. In a way, it was fantastic, really, because this was the last time I would ever step foot in that hellhole of a middle school building cafeteria. I was a high schooler now and the next time I would graduate, I would be quietly alone in my bedroom at the age of seventeen! Who would have thought that the next three years of my life would leave me a social outcast?
All jokes aside, it was time to get crazy! My best friends met me outside and I changed from my heels to my Converse and we ran all the way to Kari’s house. Karis Abuela had a house and danced in the front yard all night while the barbecue continued until Me, Kari, Keegs, and about 2 other of our friends who lived on the same street decided to go for a drive. The other two friends went to go find a car while my girls and I got in Kari’s Jeep. Keegs drove, and we blasted Pierce The Veil all around the desert lands (I’m not being dramatic. We were literally driving around a desert wasteland). All was well until we saw headlights come from behind us and a boy pulled up beside us and ran the Jeep off the road. You thought I was gonna say a cop but no, It was a teenage boy in a minivan full of sixth-grade girls. Keegs swerved off the road, hit a rock, and a sign, and then we finally crashed into a giant cactus. I won’t get into the details too much, but the next thirty minutes consisted of panicking girls walking in circles everywhere you looked, teenage boys offering to keep the man, whose yard we had just crashed into, quiet by cleaning the entire yard and road up, and then be followed up by a silent car ride home.
So, here I am today, breaking the promise we three girls had about never speaking of this and I’m writing a paper on it. Can you believe it? We three parted ways after this. No one ever found out about the accident, not even Kari’s parents. Years later, quite recently actually, Kari and I set up a Skype call and spoke to each other from across the country, and when the topic was brought up we just laughed and said how over-dramatized the story sounds compared to how it really was. Maybe that’s why I never told anyone. I don’t even think I’ve told my mom, who I’ve grown extremely close to and never keep any secrets from. That’s how unique of a story this was; the day I graduated eighth grade. Take that for a memorable day!
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