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Emily and the Important People
I study people. It’s a hobby. I know, I’m a weirdo, but it’s interesting. People are strange.
See, there’s the kind that are “popular,” there’s the punky ones, the preppy ones, and the freaky ones. I don’t see why everyone segregates himself. They all have the same problem: Everyone is just trying to survive in a scary world. People think they have nothing in common with the next person when really those two people could switch lives and not notice the difference.
I find it really interesting how when you observe a normally sweet girl mixed into a group of friends, suddenly she is a vicious animal. But when you get to talk to her alone, without all the other people, she can be such a good friend. I used to know someone. Her name was Emily. She was my best friend for years. That was before she got sucked into the land of the beautiful and popular. Now when Emily is with her friends, she sickens me. She’ll make fun of anyone just to get the approval of the crowd. Whatever matters to them is what matters to her. She doesn’t have any opinions about anyone or anything of her own anymore. Emily has just taken the shape of the mold like so many like her have done before. I can’t even look at her now.
One day a few months ago, I was supposed to eat lunch with Jessie. Jessie had been even closer to Emily than I was. As I was walking down the hall, I saw Jessie. She was surrounded by Emily and her friends. They looked like a pack of wolves ready to pounce on their prey, ready to rip and tear Jessie apart, one imperfection at a time. That’s when I knew Emily was really gone. I lost her. I tried so hard not to. It took about three years but she’s completely gone now.
Today Emily is just another face in crowd. There used to be a time when I could talk to her without her group, but I can’t anymore. I can’t tear her away. I guess I’m not cool enough. I bet Emily’s still nice when she’s not trying to impress and please everyone but herself, but I can’t reach her anymore, so I guess I’ll never know for sure.
Other people’s opinions about me never bothered me much. They were just not important enough. What has always mattered to me is how I view myself, and whether or not that makes me happy, not if it pleases someone else. Emily wasn’t able to do that. She forgot who the important people really were. When I think about it, I guess I could have just as easily been Emily and she could have been me. I could be the one trying to be accepted by people that don’t even really care about me, always trying to please and never making myself happy.
So maybe even though now the person that used to be my best friend disgusts me, and she won’t even look at me because I’m not good enough anymore, I guess I’m the lucky one. I wish I could have made Emily see what they were doing to her. I wish I could open her eyes to what she does to all the people she tortures everyday. But I can’t. The Emily I lost is never coming back. Article provided by 
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