Masked

The muscles in my cheeks were beginning to ache with each second passing by and I feared the bright light that I learnt to show in my eyes was fading, the sparkle in my irises dimming and my pupils growing smaller, as the music began to penetrate the walls, I created in my head to protect my brain from the thrashing music around me.

I was at a party on a Friday night, where you would suppose

every teenager would want to be. I didn't know how much longer I could keep this up.

Acting as if I was enjoying the feeling of sweaty bodies pressed up

against me from every side, the claustrophobic feeling of having nowhere to escape to, having no choice but to let yourself get pushed in and out of the rave and swarm of kids on the dance floor. The words of Calvin Harris's "Feel so close" surrounding the thick air in the under stairs basement of Seth Camponi's house, as if the lyrics themselves were piercing into my head, it throbbed, and my mouth began to dry up and my eyes glazed over.

I finally gave in to my body, slumping out of the pack to lean

against the flimsy camping table set up with red plastic cups and empty bottles of alcohol, fruit juice and soda.

I took a sip of pineapple juice and regained my breath. I didn't

know why I constantly did this to myself, came to these parties, with people whose company did not excite me and whose activities filled me with exhaustion and dread.

But it felt like I didn't have an option. In today's world, it seemed like this is what I am supposed to be doing, how I am supposed to be spending my time, how I am supposed to be having fun... This. Dancing. Drinking. Letting go with a bunch of mindless youth who seem to drown the disappointments that the world has presented them with by filling up plastic cups with alcohol as if it will symbolically fill the empty void of potential this world presents to them as if it will number the anxiety and depression that every teen these days seems to deal with.

My mask was wearing off and I know I had to get out of here

soon, I was giving up early tonight, yes. Giving up my attempts at trying to fit into a crowd I don't belong in, in order to fit into the typical teen role society has created for me. But my attempts at faking a smile were making my cheeks bruise inside and my gaze was becoming lost in my exhaustion.

I walked the short distance home and as I entered my bedroom, I

felt like a child with asthma being able to properly breathe for the first time.

I took off my tight dress and painful shoes and wiped off the

makeup on my face, replacing them with pyjama shorts, a brown Nike hoodie and a ponytail.

As I slipped into the soft covers of my bed and my head hit the

pillow the fatigue of the night slowly wore off.

After my energy returned a small fraction, I made myself a cup

of peppermint tea, grabbed a box of sprinkle frosted cookies and laid on my bed consumed by one of the many books, I picked out of my bookshelf.

I smiled in complete contentedness as I listened to the soft hum of my vinyl record playing in the background, a definite improvement from the potent rave music at the party.

The energy that had been drawn out of me from being surrounded by so many people returned to me, like the waves of a storm

returning softly to crash down at the soft sand of the beach.

My facade was tiring me out. I feared people would eventually

come to realise I wasn't the stereotypical, extroverted, reckless teenager they thought I was, I couldn't let that happen. I owed... Him, that much.

After the incident, I had decided that it was just too risky. Too

risky to let anyone know the truth. I had to fit into this role society had designed for me. Give in to societal norms and try to have fun doing what girls and boys my age is supposed to be doing.

But the fear of losing myself completely to this character I was

playing was beginning to grow larger and stronger than the fear that everyone might know the truth.

As I read a particularly funny part in my book, I almost spat out my tea, holding in a laugh my eyes filled with that sparkle that was missing on the basement dance floor, and my pupils dilated with real joy as my lips parted into an all too real grin at the joys of being alone.

My phone lit up beside me, a text from one of my party ‘friends’ and I felt a familiar sinking feeling in my stomach. The text read:

WHERE R U THE PARTYS JUS GETTIG STARTER

With a whole lot of useless emojis following it. The grammar was completely off, suggesting she had a bit too much to drink.

I replied:

YEH IK IT WAS A BANGER! (a lie). THINK I OVER DID IT (half-true) BIT TOO MUCH TO DRINK IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN (a lie) DAMMIT HOPE I’M NOT MISSING MUCH (a complete lie).

With that done and out of the way I discarded my phone for the night and took a deep breath, trying to return to my happy place of solitary.

I really hope I would be able to keep this up till school finishes, I just can’t risk people finding out. Not after what happened last time, I just can’t put myself through that again.

For now, I would just have to play the part, put on my fake smile every day, come to the parties and participate in the activities till I can return to my true form, every night when I am back alone in my room, my safe haven and am pulled into the world of film, books and music, where my best friends become the words on a page, characters on a screen and notes in a song.

These things have gotten me through far more and have been there for me and brought way more real smiles from my face than my supposed friends ever have. But despite that, I have to keep pretending.

After my long day and even longer night, I allow myself to sink into the covers off my bed while simultaneously allowing myself to sink into the story of my book and plunge into a relaxed state.

My mask was off and for the first time that day, I felt completely content and safe, protected and surrounded despite being completely and utterly alone.