End Of









It is the strangest feeling to wake up in a bed that you haven’t slept in for a month. I stared at the ceiling, covered in popcorn bumps, so unlike the smooth white paint of my dorm room. Yesterday, I became a senior in high school. Today is the beginning of summer break. And I couldn’t feel any more out of place. It’s like shedding your skin and stepping out into the light, the slight sting of the sun hitting your skin along with the realization that you are in a completely different location. I realized I was farther away from everything else when I was taking the keys off of their chain, setting them down on my desk. I realized it when my voice echoed against the naked walls, stripped off their ornaments. I realized it when I looked at the overflowing kitchen, full of unwanted food. When I stepped into the art studio for the last time of the year, I felt it. It tugged at me as I scanned my last roll of film. A few of the images above are from that roll, a reminder of this past year. They reflect the shimmering memories of truth or dare on the front lawn; of walks in the drizzling rain and ruthless sun; of pullovers and sundresses; of studying on the steps; of hushed conversations and endless laughter. Thinking back on them, I find that I can no longer be sad. Because while it may be the end of this year, it is only the beginning of the next.


By Sophie Sebastiani

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