Waiting room

 I've spent most of my middle school and high school years preparing for five minutes from now. As if I have been sitting in a navy blue chair, one sat on by hundreds before me, waiting patiently. Waiting for my name to finally be called from some imaginary list and allow me to take a breath, be a big girl, and walk out of the automatic doors. Leaving the stocked vending machines, the ringing of a loud school bell, and the feeling of being stuck. As if it never was, for my life is no longer a waiting room, but the feeling of the unknown, the pumping adrenaline that anything can happen. My life has always been a waiting room, but thinking about it now i've never really ever been one to wait. The sounds, lights, and people all scurry out side of those big automatic doors. The world outside all abundant. I see them but they don't scare me. If anything they excite me, draw me closer, make me realize this waiting room is not where I'm supposed to be. I no longer fit here, the mold is about to break, and my cacoon is about to break.  My blue chair has worn out, I'm getting antsy, and I keep watching. I see them and they don't scare me. The worlds outside those big automatic doors, I get up and without turning around to take in whats about to become my former world, I walk out of those big silver automatic doors. I exit the waiting room and I start my life.