Meet Sofia’s Backpack

Meet My High School Backpack

You won’t see him. He was a big boy back in the day, slung over my shoulder, and he wore my name on his back like I wore him. He wasn’t special at all like all the other girls had. I couldn’t find a bright coloured one like his predecessor’s vibrant neon. He was a dark grey that wasn’t too dark but not too light either, a warm cool grey, not the polluted kind. On his back my name shown; in ruby, blue, evergreen, gold, and silver metallic sharpie so everyone would not mistake the fact that he was mine and to touch with the greatest caution because I was not forgiving. 

He was worn out because he carried everything. Each and every one of my binders and corresponding notebooks to my pencil bag that carried no pencil because I only used pens and carried pens I seldom ever used but one; a girl must have her options, naturally. Then there was my pouch of highlighters because not everything to be annotated in APUSH could be annotated in the same colour, that’s messy and hard to read. He carried my books too, textbooks and books of my choosing always two because a girl must have her options. My personal laptop too, because school computers suck. Dell over Chromebooks any day and I was a senior, what were they going to say? 

He’s carried my bed, my uncomfy not so little travel pillow. I would lean on him and cry. Why? High school things. I started having him carry tissues too.

Why so much? I did not use my locker, a prime makeout spot. Meet my high school backpack, he remains underneath my bed. 

I replaced him.

Meet My College Backpack

She was just enough, until she wasn’t. Navy but not as serious. My laptop was too big for her, so she carried my iPad with its corresponding keyboard. Pink of course, the early days of my soon to be rose gold aura. She carried just two pens. Just one notebook. One agenda. My wallet. Headphones too. Nothing too crazy. 

Sophomore year, well, I went crazy. Passed her my laptop anyway along with my iPad sans keyboard. A snack or two. Or three. I would never eat them and that’s on eating disorders. 

She couldn’t carry too much, and then she broke.

Meet My Coach Mom Backpack

She was strong. She carried everything and then some. She wasn't very colourful, but she was bright enough; strawberries and cream Puma, heavy on the cream. My coach binder and ID, first aid kit, three Propel water bottles. Extra gloves, highschoolers lose things easily. Hair ties of varying size and shape because their hair textures are all different. Extra butts for the poles, colour guard things. Back up velcro, black tape, sweatshirts for when they get cold, tissues, hand warmers, my wallet, my coach pass, a sweater for myself, drum sticks because I don’t have a doctor beat. Oh and sunglasses, not worn as much as the sun but for the look. I’m a cool mom, naturally. Lastly, two snacks for myself, because a girl must have her options.

Meet Vincent

He’s new on the block, but he didn’t come to play. My boy has style. He is, of course, modelling my favourite painting. He can carry quite a bit, but I won’t overdo it. My macbook, pink of course. My portfolio, an expanded folder, a notebook, and an agenda. All pink, of course. A girl must have her pink. Headphones, almond blossoms. My NOOK, almond blossoms. My wallet, roses. And my phone, almond blossoms. A girl loves Vincent. Four pens, options. Dior pouch, cuz makeup. Charger and backup charger because I believe in jinxes. 

You can’t see this one, but he holds it for me. A calm state of mind to prepare for the days ahead. A girl’s gotta have her peace.