Personal Narrative: The Marching Band

Not a single quality rendered me unique or worth remembering and the world enjoyed reminding of that. Ridicule besieged my dark, bushy hair and tall, lanky body. My horn-rimmed glasses eternally needed cleaning from a constant cycle of misplacement. However, my next-door-neighbor, Victoria comprised my only concern. Her mysterious mannerisms and windblown hair that complemented her narrow face and petite body captured the attention of every boy in the county, and I, too, unfortunately fell prey to her siren song. However, to my misfortune, our childhood friendship slowly grew apart in high school when she joined the cheer squad and I, the marching band. Society’s cruel labels forsook me and placed me at the bottom while she thrived at the top. It became clear that we existed in two different circles that forbid any intersections. After this realization, I tried to remove her from my thoughts, but she kept surfacing every time I looked out the window, only to glimpse the spot we used to share late night conversations, or the rusted bikes leaned up against her house that we rode to our imaginative adventures. I even found myself empathizing with the bass guitar that sat alone without an accompanying guitar. Time passed slowly and without reprieve. Through the window, I witnessed her various love affairs, all …show more content…
Literally. Before I could react, I saw Victoria tumble into my dimly lit room with her guitar. I suppose she simply desired the concrete patter of music and the familiarity of an old friend. After many nights of these secret midnight jams, she began to smile again. However, Victoria associating with a branded loser concerned me, so I reluctantly tried to coax her away from me. My implicit urgings were to no avail. Se said she saw galaxies in my eyes and that perfection lived in me and our music. Simply put, we were in love. Our venn diagrams had finally became one