The whole school was soaking with excitement and anxiety about everything that had happened. By lunchtime, they couldn’t take it anymore and burst through the doors of classrooms like tea seeping through a sieve. Brian was the boy who seemed to have a heart, and Charles was the other bully with a heart darker than sin itself. Charles had made sure I hit the ground, while Brian wanted to give me a chance, perhaps out of pity and guilt.
I hated pity and sympathy. They are what had gotten me here in the first place, in this mess. The saddest children were offered a chance; the rule seemed to apply at Mellow orphanage and children’s homes. I was one of the quiet ones who hardly spoke and gave out the bare minimum in day-to-day activities and class. This was a second chance. The sympathy was mainly because I had epilepsy and kept having convulsions and seizures, which had to be the source of the sympathy.I had stopped living and trying a long time ago. My seizures were bad; I did not make an effort in class because another seizure would come along and perhaps kill me. All I did at Mellow orphanage for the last few years was wait for death as I gave way below the bare minimum. Something had to kill a man; I just didn’t have enough bravado and valour to choose what would kill me, and that is why I kept waiting for the worst seizures to finish me off.This was a second chance, a new life. Maslow High School had made me want to try again, but not anymore. I didn’t want it all.I walked into the dining room and noticed the buzz of excitement around me. There were students everywhere, seated in small groups, talking and eating. It felt nice. My session with the principal had been brief as he dismissed me, claiming that he had a CCTV camera that could be activated.I picked my lunch, chicken dumplings, fried rice, soup, juice pitcher and finally, one apple. I couldn’t hide my excitement. The food was just too much. I wanted to take two plates, given a chance, two plates to make up for all the years I ate food that was barely enough at the orphanage.I turned around and noticed all the eyes in the dining hall fixed on me. Not even a single person was looking at their lunch.“Slow, steady steps towards the back, “my subconscious whispered to me, “ you can do this.”Emotional stability had never been at the top of my to-do list, and as soon as I took three steps, anxiety and fear began crippling my insides.Fear is powerful.I lifted my head and spotted the bully from class standing a few meters away with a crowd behind him. He looked different; sunlight surrounded his head like a golden hat, and his eyes bore into me like golden lava.My plate and food hit the ground as I struggled to stay steady.“It is coming, another seizure,” I whispered at exactly no one as tears made my vision blurry.This was Maslow High School, and no one cared.I took a few steps forward, away from the broken plates and tried to fight the feeling that was now engulfing my whole being.It began with my neck that twisted painfully towards the side and stayed there in an uncomfortable, ugly way, next my mouth curved in a hideous manner as drops of saliva began dripping down my chin.Dear God, let this be the seizure that kills me. Let this be the one that wipes me out off the face of the earth. I can’t handle it. I prayed silently, grateful that I had whispered my wish before I became unconscious.My neck kept on curving painfully as my mouth twisted; this seizure was worse. I was supposed to be unconscious right now, except that I was still aware of everything around me.“You didn’t take your medicine yesterday night. This is what happens, “my subconscious whispered to me.I pummeled to the ground with my head hitting the floor, followed by my shoulders and chest. It was a fatal fall that I hoped would kill me once and for all.Dear God, is death such a hard wish to grant?My life had always been a mess. I got drawn to everything that I hoped would destroy me. All my intentions were always to ruin my life because I hated it.As the seizure engulfed me and my head twisted left and right with saliva dripping, I felt a few tears trickling down my face as I shook.A big circle was formed around me as everyone stared in shock.The voices around me were clear, but I couldn’t focus on anything. I was still conscious but shaking profusely as everything reached my ears.“I fire the devil in Jesus name!”“May you burn in hell and never resurrect or reincarnate in Jesus name!” another voice shouted as they joined in harmony.Sticks and stones can injure and break a bone, but words can injure the soul and crush life.All I wanted was for my neck to break this one time, forever.The shouting around me grew worse as I kept on moving and moving. Next, I turned on my belly and tried to pull myself.“Dear brain, stop the seizures. Dear God, let me live like a normal person this once. Why are you ruining my second chance? Wasn’t this all your great plan to get me out of the orphanage?” I tried to whisper questions to God as I struggled to breathe.My head jerked to the side again in a painful movement as I felt a blow land on my side. Slowly I felt life leaving me as I smiled in relief.Finally, the death I had hoped for was here for so long."Get back to normal," a voice whispered in my ear, and I felt my whole body and system obeying.Only the tablets I took could command my epilepsy to go away after some minutes or half an hour. This was another first.My head snapped to normal in one painful movement I couldn't control."Now get back and carry on with everything you have been doing," the same voice whispered in my ear again.This was a first. My convulsions always ended badly. They ended with me passing out, making a big mess and ugliness of myself after rolling on the dirty tiles or ground.Back in the orphanage, people cared, they would hold me down, and Angela, the girl I always knew since I couldn't remember, would come to hold my hand while I struggled to fight epilepsy and whisper5 in my ear that she was here and that was all that mattered.It made it less painful. It was always better when there was someone to hold your hand when you knew that after the seizure, you had a person to call home who thought you dese
It felt like I was drowning, yet I was never taught how to swim. The feeling engulfed a person when they were in the middle of the ocean, and no one was coming.“Come on, here,” the teacher repeated, handing me over the whiteboard marker with authority soaking his tone.I turned around to face the board and looked at the sum before closing my eyes tightly, just in case a miracle decided to happen, just in case all the rosaries that had been thrown at me during lunchtime decided to make sure some superpowers helped me to figure out what to do.Y= mx+c, I scribbled first before standing back.My tongue still felt heavy, and I could still feel saliva pooling at the base of my mouth, under my tongue. After my seizures, I couldn’t talk well until I settled down after two or three hours. The woman from before wouldn’t let me sleep and insisted I come to class.The sum in front of me had decimals, fractions and a number raised to power seven. I couldn’t handle it even if I tried. How the hel
My breath was lodged somewhere in my throat as I struggled to breathe and release a whimper inside my blankets. But still, it wouldn't matter even if I made a sound or bleated like needy sheep; this was Maslow High School, and I was the most hated and popular new student. News of my arrival had spread like wildfire, and a certain cook told people he noticed my eyeballs were black like those of a reptilian lizard when I was picking my supper.Being famous was a good thing if people liked you, and you were also beautiful with golden hair that tumbled on the waistline. On the contrary, I was far away from those. Maslow High School was a prestigious school that stood on a plateau, only the rich children came here, and my case was different. I was a charity case from the orphanage. All the clothes I wore once belonged to people who decided they didn't need them anymore and would rather dispose of them in my old home.I was a sympathy and charity student here because of a scholarship everyo
I got into class, grateful I had made it through the weekend. In my previous school, all the bright kids sat in front while the dumb ones were allocated seats in the back. My position had always been in the back, in a safe pesceful corner, away from prying eyes of teachers.To be honest, I didn't even deserve the scholarship. I could count ten students who were better than me in the orphanage.As soon as I was halfway past the first row, the whole class kept quiet as everyone looked at me in surprise. It seemed like I had just crossed a nuclear zone, and they all wanted to see what would happen next, stuff like my skin falling off or a bomb blowing up.I braced myself, adjusted my bag and made slow, steady steps towards the back. Perhaps this way, no one would notice me; perhaps at the back, they would all forget that I existed.When it was too late, I noticed a single leg on the way. As expected, I tumbled over it and flew up before hitting the ground with a loud thud."There is no
It felt like I was drowning, yet I was never taught how to swim. The feeling engulfed a person when they were in the middle of the ocean, and no one was coming.“Come on, here,” the teacher repeated, handing me over the whiteboard marker with authority soaking his tone.I turned around to face the board and looked at the sum before closing my eyes tightly, just in case a miracle decided to happen, just in case all the rosaries that had been thrown at me during lunchtime decided to make sure some superpowers helped me to figure out what to do.Y= mx+c, I scribbled first before standing back.My tongue still felt heavy, and I could still feel saliva pooling at the base of my mouth, under my tongue. After my seizures, I couldn’t talk well until I settled down after two or three hours. The woman from before wouldn’t let me sleep and insisted I come to class.The sum in front of me had decimals, fractions and a number raised to power seven. I couldn’t handle it even if I tried. How the hel
"Get back to normal," a voice whispered in my ear, and I felt my whole body and system obeying.Only the tablets I took could command my epilepsy to go away after some minutes or half an hour. This was another first.My head snapped to normal in one painful movement I couldn't control."Now get back and carry on with everything you have been doing," the same voice whispered in my ear again.This was a first. My convulsions always ended badly. They ended with me passing out, making a big mess and ugliness of myself after rolling on the dirty tiles or ground.Back in the orphanage, people cared, they would hold me down, and Angela, the girl I always knew since I couldn't remember, would come to hold my hand while I struggled to fight epilepsy and whisper5 in my ear that she was here and that was all that mattered.It made it less painful. It was always better when there was someone to hold your hand when you knew that after the seizure, you had a person to call home who thought you dese
The whole school was soaking with excitement and anxiety about everything that had happened. By lunchtime, they couldn’t take it anymore and burst through the doors of classrooms like tea seeping through a sieve. Brian was the boy who seemed to have a heart, and Charles was the other bully with a heart darker than sin itself. Charles had made sure I hit the ground, while Brian wanted to give me a chance, perhaps out of pity and guilt.I hated pity and sympathy. They are what had gotten me here in the first place, in this mess. The saddest children were offered a chance; the rule seemed to apply at Mellow orphanage and children’s homes. I was one of the quiet ones who hardly spoke and gave out the bare minimum in day-to-day activities and class. This was a second chance. The sympathy was mainly because I had epilepsy and kept having convulsions and seizures, which had to be the source of the sympathy.I had stopped living and trying a long time ago. My seizures were bad; I did not make
I got into class, grateful I had made it through the weekend. In my previous school, all the bright kids sat in front while the dumb ones were allocated seats in the back. My position had always been in the back, in a safe pesceful corner, away from prying eyes of teachers.To be honest, I didn't even deserve the scholarship. I could count ten students who were better than me in the orphanage.As soon as I was halfway past the first row, the whole class kept quiet as everyone looked at me in surprise. It seemed like I had just crossed a nuclear zone, and they all wanted to see what would happen next, stuff like my skin falling off or a bomb blowing up.I braced myself, adjusted my bag and made slow, steady steps towards the back. Perhaps this way, no one would notice me; perhaps at the back, they would all forget that I existed.When it was too late, I noticed a single leg on the way. As expected, I tumbled over it and flew up before hitting the ground with a loud thud."There is no
My breath was lodged somewhere in my throat as I struggled to breathe and release a whimper inside my blankets. But still, it wouldn't matter even if I made a sound or bleated like needy sheep; this was Maslow High School, and I was the most hated and popular new student. News of my arrival had spread like wildfire, and a certain cook told people he noticed my eyeballs were black like those of a reptilian lizard when I was picking my supper.Being famous was a good thing if people liked you, and you were also beautiful with golden hair that tumbled on the waistline. On the contrary, I was far away from those. Maslow High School was a prestigious school that stood on a plateau, only the rich children came here, and my case was different. I was a charity case from the orphanage. All the clothes I wore once belonged to people who decided they didn't need them anymore and would rather dispose of them in my old home.I was a sympathy and charity student here because of a scholarship everyo