To Be A Prize

Chapter 14

When I was younger, I knew I was different to everyone else. I knew that everyone had their differences but that mine were a little more prominent than other people's. So, I learnt to hide them, to mask them and minimise them so that it was easier to fit in.

I watched YouTube videos and read magazine articles on how to act in certain scenarios and copied their mannerisms. I built personas that were able to adapt to different situations. When I was little that meant having the coolest Moshi Monster and being 'the best drawer' in my class. Then when I grew up a little, I learnt that if I was with a trendy group of people my age, to act cool and talk about a new underground indie singer. And now that I'm an adult, I know that it's not ok to fidget and make mistakes or talk to myself, or interrupt people when they're speaking, and I need to make sure to always smile, especially when I don't feel like it, and remember people's names and all the other stuff that the world deems necessary of an adult.

The first time I vividly remember my brain not working in the same way as other children when I was in 1st Grade. We were given a task to follow a set of instructions and make a model of our homes out of materials provided for us. But, my hands and brain weren't communicating with each other which irritated me because I knew I could do it. So, I just sat there, paralysed with fear and frustration, staring at it, unable to start because I was scared of getting it wrong.

My teacher assumed I was being lazy and told me off for not getting involved and I didn't have the emotional understanding to properly articulate to her that I knew what I was supposed to do and wanted to do it, but there was a physical blockade in my mind that was stopping me from actually doing anything. I remember looking round at all the other children in my class who were doing the task with ease and feeling so pathetic that I couldn't do the same.

I now know that I felt those differences because I am different to other people because of my ADHD diagnosis, which is why I was so mad at Dream for using our shared neuro-divergence as an excuse to manipulate and control me. It felt like a kick in the teeth to that little girl with her hair on backwards who felt stupid for not thinking like everyone else.

I didn't explain any of this to Dream. I don't think he deserved an explanation if I'm honest. Instead, when his car pulled into the drive, I leaped out of the side door and ran into the house, desperate to get away from him. Heading straight for my room, I passed Sapnap on the way who asked me if I was ok. I gave him a short grunt in response and slammed my bedroom door, creating a barrier between me and the barrage of questions I was sure to be met with had I stayed.

Legs crossed over one another, I sit down on my bed and throw my head into my hands, gently massaging my temples. I go to bury myself under my covers once again and wallow in self pity before I suddenly catch sight of my reflection in the window. My eyes are sunken in from sleep deprivation and hours of crying. My greasy hair is scraped back into a bun at the nape of my neck. My once plump lips are chapped and blood stained. The dark blue polish on my nails is chipped and anxiety bitten hangnails decorate the skin around them. As well as my dishevelled outward appearance, I'm a weak, shrivelled version of the confident, outgoing person I once was. And things were going to change.

My mum once told me to never trust a man to do a job that a woman could do better, and nothing better described the situation I currently found myself in. Four men had created a game to decide who was worthy of me, but because they were men and had therefore not stopped at any point to consider my feelings towards the matter, they had done a shit job of it.

If those boys want to play a game, I'll gladly join in. But if we're going to play, I'm going to make sure I'm in charge.

But first, I think it's my turn to have a little fun.