A dark mass moves in unison as a noise erupts from the eerie silence. It gathers in rows and moves in a formation, parts of it going up, parts of it going down. In less than five minutes, the dark mass separates into individual particles, each going in a separate place. Each day, every fifty-five minutes, this switch happens. For one hundred and eighty days a year, for four years, twelve years in total.
They called us teenagers and students. But really, we were more like soldiers.
The things we carry are determined by many factors. Requirement was one of them. As a student, I carry binders and notebooks, pens and pencils, highlighters and whiteout, extra filler binder paper, a stapler, post-its, erasers, and water. I carry at least one textbook, day in, day out. Other students carry more, sometimes even three or four. Together, they add up twenty to thirty pounds, standard weight, but it really depends on the carrier. Elsie Goodyear, the one who is AWOL, carries medicine for her pain and never empties her backpack. Tommy Nylon, who is a star athlete, carries extra food and takes out all the things he doesn't need. There is no requirement to what to bring as everything varies as each day passes. But as an unspoken rule, everyone keeps at least a pencil and a notebook in their backpack, even if they don't use it. It's a survival instinct.
Those are just the standard supplies we carry. Each rank carries a little something different. From freshmen to senior, the things each class carries differs drastically.
What we carried varied by experience. Freshmen, fresh out of middle school, carry way too much extra stuff: five notebooks, six binders, several dozen pens and pencils, highlighters, clue, tape, rulers, money (and lots of it!). But some also carry the the "upperclassmen attitude of eighth-graders". Arrogance radiates from many of the popular eighth-graders, sometimes even as much as to talk back or challenge a senior. Ryan Terrible, a freshman with too much middle school popularity, challenged a senior during lunch by sitting at the place she usually sits with her friends. His friends got the message was, in fact, their upperclassman, and thus needed to be respected, but Ryan was still in the hallucination that he was still a "top dog" of the middle school age. Other freshmen, however, succumbed to the high school hierarchy, knowing that they are at the bottom. These freshmen carry fear and submission, cowering when a group of upperclassmen walk by and sneer at them. They smell of fear clings to them and the upperclassmen can smell it, Like a hunting dog sniffing for a bird. The minute the bird succumbs to the fear and takes off, the dog gives chase. And it's bye bye birdie. Sophomores and juniors, not at the top, yet not at the bottom, carry the standard supplies of students: four binders, three notebooks, two pens, two mechanical pencils, a highlighter, and a little cash. They carry indifference to the hierarchy, but they know their place. They walk in small clusters, usually in pars or a trio, unlike the haughty freshmen who walk in a huge group, or a timid one, walking alone. They carry respect for the upperclassmen and amusement for the lowerclassmen who dare challenge their seniors. The seniors, by far, are the ones who carry the least, at least in physical form. A notebook and a pencil are usually all they have. A car, a credit/debit card, and the way they carry themselves at ease are something some seniors have. They carry arrogance and intimidation, especially toward the ignorant and misunderstanding freshmen. Liam Feather, the star football player and class president, carries a confident attitude and authoritative presence. The teachers respect him, other students look up to him, and other male classmates loath him yet, at the same time, admire him for who he is. Contempt, admiration, infatuation, and many others are what surround him. The hierarchy matters, but sometimes, it doesn't matter at all.
Besides the necessary stuff and STUP (standard supplies), we also carry survival instincts.
School is a battlefield. You fight to reach the top, to achieve success. Everyone is an enemy, in a way. No matter how close you are with someone or how great friends you are, everyone is in the race to reach the top. Those who cannot fight strongly get weeded out. like dying plants in a garden where the weeds are taking over. Survival of the fittest. To survive, you need to always be prepared. Especially when you least expect it.
Almost everyone carried a cell phone. The first survival necessity. Call for help, text a friend for advice, or just to talk to someone helps in any form of emergency, whether it be a real big disaster or a romantic complication. I carry other forms of survival supplies: a flashlight, rope, nakins, First-Aid kit, just to name a few. School is far away for me. And for me, having these supplies makes me feel safe, secure, protected.
Often, we carried one another. "When in times of trouble, my friends will come to me. Speaking words of wisdom, they help me." Tests, quizzes, essays, and assignments all adds to the stress of us teenagers---along with SATs, AP exams, and extracurricular activities. Mental breakdowns happen. Frustration and anger slip from the tightly closed container. We snap under the pressure of teachers, administration, and parents' expectations. Our tempers get loose. We rely on each other, on moral support, on sympathy of our friends and family. Of our loved ones. our enemies.
We aren't just students. Nor are we just teenagers. We are soldiers. We march to the beat of our rhythm, of our goals and dreams. Of our desires. Our wants. Our emotions. No matter how hard it gets, we don't give up. We carry on, with the things we carry tightly strapped to us. To who we are.
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