Memory lane

I was going through my photos this morning, and came across the only two I know of, of myself as a teenager. The first one was a group photo of our choir. Nearly everyone was smiling, well, all except for me, that is. I look on blankly, my expression full of fear, sadness and confusion. The second one was from the local paper, just before a charity walk I took part in was about to start off. The reporter commented on the friendliness of the walk, and the small groups of walkers chatting among themselves. That was not my memory of the event, as I walked entirely alone. It's odd what one remembers, and what feelings are brought back by old photos.