Past, Present, Future

Hey! So, this is this really short story that I wrote past midnight last night, but fell asleep before I could post. The italics are people's lines as they talk in the real world, and the rest is just thoughts of a young, teenage girl who's moved to a new high school for the first time.
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There are three types of people in this world. Those who live for the "now", or the present, those who live for the past, or the "good ol'days", and those who live for the future, or "what can happen". I guess I fall into the second category. Or, I unwillingly became part of that second category.

"Nicole, hurry up or you'll be late! You don't want to be late on the first day of school do you?"
"Coming mom."
Yeah, I definitely grip onto my past. I hold it so tight that my knuckles are clenched snow white, and not even the strongest creature alive could wrench it out of my tight, tight grip.

But I like the past. I know the past. I'm comfortable with the past. I mean, it's not like I had a really tragic back-story or anything, so why shouldn't I like my past better than the present? I'm a cautious person, so I don't like walking on unknown grounds. I like to know exactly where I can put my feet down securely. And only my past can give me that sense of security.

Plus, my past is happier than the present. In the present, I'm the new kid, a loner, "guy-less" as that one girl who sits next to me in 6th period calls it, and pretty much the average "my life sucks" teenager. But in my past, I was the complete opposite. And that girl who sat next to me in 6th would be one of my besties. It would be all glowing and joyful compared to my dim reality as of now.

"Nicole, I mean it! Hurry up! You have 10 minutes!"

"I know mom, I'm watching the clock."
On the other hand, the future is just plain scary. It's a dark, swirling abyss, shrouded in damp, grey fog and ribbons of ghostly mist that dances up to wrap around your hand, tugging you gently towards that pit. If you jump, you might crash straight into a salty, ice cold ocean and drown, or you might land in a lush green, soft meadow of flowers and new grass. But no one really knows what it's like, since all you can see is that fog, and the mist, and the occasional dark indigo and black spirals or hard rock, jagged, pointed, and lethal looking. The future is unknown, and the future scares me out of my wits. It's the exact opposite of the past, so I'll try to stay away from it.

"Nicole, get down here right this instant young lady! You're late!"

"I'm on the staircase now mom."

But now, I was at a fork in the road. I could keep hanging onto my past like a cliff ledge, or I could let go, and willingly fall into the abyss that is future. If I continued to hang on, I would live my life tired, weak, and going nowhere. If I let go, I could move forward to brighter scenery, and rebuild the remains of my shattered self. But then, I could also land in that unforgiving ocean, and drown in society, or  smash into one of those jagged rock columns on the way of my fall. Both choices were frightening and sad to think about.

"Bye sweetheart! Have a nice day!"

"Bye mom..."

Should I finally let go?

"Hey, you new here or something? I'm Sandra."

"...I'm Nicole..."

"Cool! Want to meet my group of friends?"

".........sure, why not."
And so, I fell.