Lost Michaela

Michaela, she was known for being one of the few in her grade that was prudent and kept her grades up all year round.  Unlike our lackadaisical classmates her enthusiasm and school spirit exceeded any of the teacher’s expectations. Of course if you met her after those few months of tragedy in her family, you wouldn’t have known her like that. You would have never suspected that behind those bad grades and rebellious attitude she used to be the teachers one and only favorite. At the start of 12^th grade, the months past, she became troubled.  Her respectful attitude turned into an audacious one that teachers did not like or appreciate.

       I watched as more and more frequently, her serene manner in class disappeared as she would rankle teachers by mutiny against school work. No one knew exactly what had caused the recent change in this, before, conscientious girl. I knew though, her father had told me. I used to be her friend, that is, after all that had happened to her. But whenever in a principal’s, teachers, or counselor’s office (normally because they had confiscated things Michaela would pilfer from various students) they would ask her why she had become like this.

      She would never specifically depict the reason, only give certain inklings. She’d answer the questions with something along the lines of “There is a profuse amount of events happening in my life” and would leave at that, leaving everyone clueless.

       She found herself being rebuked by teacher’s everyday and just like me they grew despondent as to if she would ever go back to being the girl they all missed. On graduation day I watched from a distance as she sat among the parents, never having been able to graduate because of her slovenly class work. She sat watching as every single one of her classmates got on stage, received the award and stepped down. As I stepped up, I saw as she stood up and clapped the hardest she could, a smile on her face. I knew that girl I missed was somewhere, she wasn’t lost.
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