The Problem with Forever

Mouth dry, I didn’t look up at the class as I started again with the hardest three sentences I’d ever written or had to speak out loud.

When I was a little girl, I used to hide in my closet. The space was dust-covered and dark, and it smelled like mothballs. But it was my sanctuary from the monsters outside. When I got older and I would have to hide, I used to fantasize that I lived in a house where the closets trapped all the monsters and where I would be safe in my bed. That I lived in a house with parents I could look up to and admire, and one day they would become the subjects of a speech I wrote about how they changed my life for the better. I didn’t live in that kind of house. But the monsters I hid from shaped who I’ve become by teaching me that kindness and love are things that should be given freely. They taught me who I never want to be. That’s why they’re important to me today.

Two people adopted me when I was almost thirteen. They didn’t see a frightened child who didn’t speak. They saw a daughter, their daughter. They dedicated every spare moment to erasing the bad memories and beating back the nightmares. They opened up doors that had never been available to me before, and believed in me. They proved that love and kindness can be given freely and without expectation. They taught me to trust and that I no longer need to be afraid.

When I was homeschooled I met a girl who had never had a problem speaking or meeting new people. At first I was envious of her openness and friendliness. Meeting people and making friends was something I wasn’t good at. We were polar opposites, and I never expected that one day she would become my best friend. She proved that you can find your best friend when you least expect it. And recently, she has influenced me by not taking what I have for granted.

The really tough parts were coming up, so I took a brief pause and inhaled slowly before continuing.

Just a few months ago, I met a boy who was kind to me even though he didn’t know me. He always had a smile, and charm to spare. I didn’t know this boy well, but his influence is possibly one of the greatest, because he has taught me to take nothing for granted, but most important, to have a smile for a stranger. He offered kindness when I needed it most, and I hope to do the same for others.

The last important person in my life has been there since I can remember. He lived in the house where the monsters roamed the hall. He kept me safe when they got too close. He read to me when I was too scared to sleep. Because of him and all that he sacrificed to make sure I was safe, I’m able to get up every morning in my own bed. Because of him, I have a second chance at life.

Stopping, I took another deep breath and glanced up, half expecting most of the class to be asleep. Some were. Only a few. The rest of the class stared, their faces a blur. I saw Paige. Shock was etched into her pretty face. I saw Rider, and he... His lips were parted and he was sitting rigidly in his seat, his arms limp at his sides.

I forced myself to continue.

But the reason why he is important to me is that he proved that helping those who need it, even if they think they don’t want help, was worth the risk. He has shaped who I am today because he was the first person to recognize that I had a voice worth listening to.

Some people have one person who influenced them more than anyone else. I learned while writing this speech how glad I am to have many. That it’s a series of people and events that shape who you become. I learned that even monsters could have a positive impact. I learned that there are people out there that will open their homes and hearts for nothing in return. I learned that strangers could be tolerant and kind. I learned that those who are always helping others help themselves last. Most important, because of all of them, I learned that I could do what I thought was impossible—that I can stand here today.

The room was quiet, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

Mr. Santos cleared his throat. “Thank you, Mallory.”

Gazes followed me as I walked back to my seat. Keira looked like she was seconds away from crying as she shot me a huge grin. Even Paige stared as I sat.

I looked over at Rider.

His face held the same expression he’d worn the entire time he sat through my speech, knowing what no one else other than maybe Paige realized—that it was about him. He looked thunderstruck.

And I...I could’ve floated right up to the ceiling.

I’d done it.

Pressing my lips together to hide a stupid smile, I faced the front of the class. I’d done it. Holy crap, I’d really gotten up in front of the class and given a speech. I’d stumbled over words and there had been a lot of awkward pauses, but I’d done it. Tears, the good kind of tears, burned the back of my throat. I wanted to dance and shout. It took everything I had to sit there through Laura Kaye’s speech without jumping out of my seat and screaming.