Marriage, if someone had spoken to me about that a few more weeks ago, I would have started to cry, regretting having lost Michaël. But now as I'm in this room waiting for the bride's entrance music to play, I feel like I'm in a dream. I've had time to fix all my wrongs on the people I've hurt and now I can say with certainty that I'm ready to live the life that comes my way. After talking to Charlotte, I went to see Cherry. I had been so unfair to her by not allowing her to get to know each other, yet it was her dearest wish for two reasons. I am the woman his best friend is in love with and I am the best friend of the woman she is in love with. It was a bit funny these relations between us, just to say that I occupied an important place in her life without even having already spoken to her. So I went to their apartment, they were living together and because of Cherry's career, they had decided to have a common-law relationship even though a baby was in discussion. They wante
I tried to hold on as I saw the ground move closer and closer to my face as if in slow motion, but my arms had become useless, and then a sickening crackle stirred in the air. I hissed, an animalistic sound escaping my lips as a jolt of pain shifted from my outer core to my insides; I desperately wanted to fight back - but I knew that would draw too much attention to my body. So I lay down, as I had so many times before, and a group of girls surrounded me with disgusting smiles on their faces. They all hated retards, they said - they all hated me. And though I hated them too, I didn't lift a finger against them. I knew I shouldn't. So I didn't.A kick to my ribs sent a scream over my bleeding lips, and my watery eyes widened as I tried to escape the pain. My thoughts, though battered, were clear as day. I had either ripped open the earlier wounds or they were swelling again. My head ached, and I silently wondered if there was a sedative lying around somewhere that I could take to keep
My body feels heavy as I open my eyes and realize I am lying in a bed... a bed? I straighten up as if I have been stung and turn to study my surroundings... big mistake, I did this way too fast and now my neck hurts a lot. I raise my hand to massage the sore spot and see bandages on my forearm. Someone has taken care of me. So I decided to find out where I am, and when my mind finally calms down, I recognize the room. A small drawer, a window with the dimensions of an A4 format, a work table with some books and notebooks... exactly as I left it this morning, and a dressing room with no more than twenty clothes. Yes, it's my room, I am in my room on my bed and its gray sheets... as gray as my life. I hear footsteps and turn around as the door creaks open. There she appears, my big sister Jeanne, who, by the way, is my legal guardian. She looks at me with watery eyes and I know she must have cried a lot because her eyes are red... red and swollen. I feel guilty for doing this to
My sister had to do and give a lot so that I could see on her sweet face that satisfied and proud smile that meant only one thing: I was accepted into this school. I smile smugly, not that I dislike in the least the fact that my sister managed to find this place for me and thus protect me from my bullies because what my sister does for me is invaluable and I cannot thank her enough. No, what saddens me is the sacrifices she is willing to make for me. I do not mean to insult her efforts, no, it touches me and makes me happy, but the worry is that it makes me feel remorse. My poor sister, who is so young and beautiful because of me, can not take advantage of her youth, she can not even have fun with her friends...if she even has time for that, she can not afford the clothes she likes, and at almost 28 she has not had a real romantic relationship. She tells me she is happy to take care of me, but it does not make me happy to see my sister so lonely and so unappreciated. She fights for
It was finally Monday, even if I was a little apprehensive about this new stage in my life.I think of my past, of the fact that since I started going to school as far back as I can remember, the first days of school—back to school—or the rest of the school year has never been what I would call incredible.While others reunited after a long vacation, others, if they were new people, went to make friends. And, of course, there was me.I didn't go to others. I was too shy or fearful because of my situation, or to whom no one came because I was too weird, so of course the first days of class were all alike in my eyes, and in the end, I got used to it -- or not.I'm apprehensive because I'm going to arrive when everyone is already settled. I would have to present it in front of people who will certainly be waiting for me to do it. I would have to suffer the embarrassment of "Oh, she's silent," and if I still suffered the "it's a monster," all these ideas have been bothering me since the da
I thought that when students arrived at school, they were all wearing serious expressions. Many kids were gathered in the yard, smiling and joking cheerfully. I felt a little envious of them since I saw myself one day being surrounded by friends with whom to joke around and discuss various topics. In any case, that is not the current issue. My hand begins to feel pressure, and when I look up, I see my big sister pressing her hand firmly against her chest. She simply reassured me the entire time, but based on the expression on her face, I believe she is the one who is most concerned out of the two of us. She must be thinking that I wouldn't feel out of place in this bourgeois setting because all of the students at this institution appear to be so affluent and prominent. Nevertheless, even though I was in my former high school with my buddies, I never felt like I belonged there. Because of this, I much prefer being here, at least for the time being, especially because I have a positive
I can feel I'm shaking like a leaf, I can't just start doing sign language like that in front of them, they'll think I'm crazy. I feel sweat beading on my forehead and my heart beating faster. I look in front of me and all my future classmates seem to be waiting for me to say something but I don't know because the only thing I can do is act but I'm also afraid to do it.I feel the professor moving beside me and I can imagine his face, which is no doubt similar to those of my classmates – they are waiting impatiently and I imagine being annoyed.What to do but what to do?Suddenly the door opens wide and a young man enters with a bored face, he is rather tall with very square shoulders, and his face is lowered which means that I cannot see his face well under his dark hair but with fine features as I can discern there it looks beautiful - at least what I can think of the term.He passes in front of me and the teacher without saying a word and I find him particularly badly brought up, gi
Throughout the lesson, the teacher avoided asking me questions or referring to me. It was normal in fact, but at one point I admit, when there were questions he was asking and no one seemed able or wanting to answer, I found myself wanting to raise my hand to do so before remembering that it would be useless.I felt really good in this class compared to my old one where the classes were such an oppressive prison, I couldn't open my mouth. It was bare if I made a sound of breathing so to be noticed in class was never out of life. The girls behind me were going to throw a book at my head and the teacher was going to act like he didn't see anything; so I tried not to be noticed.But here everything is so different, I feel comfortable and even if there is a bit of marginalization it doesn't hurt me because it's quite normal. I'm not a normal student – even if I would have liked to be. It is my desperate need to be included in the group that probably gives me this feeling of rejection.Th