the kids are depressed

•SAM

"Sam wakes up frustrated..."

I think everyone would agree with me that High school would be incomplete without the good ol bullys and our Dear Sam is that bully in my case—except he didn't meet the Hollywood High school bully criteria because Nigerian kids are naturally thick skinned—he just did a whole lot of harm than good to himself with the numerous nuisances he constituted in the school and to the pupils of our class, especially the females and I might get stoned or dragged for penning this down, but I don't think Sam is as bad as everyone paints him to be; although you might have to actually know him to know this and I know that's gonna be difficult due to his reputation in school, but I've met Sam outside of the school vicinity and just like the Hollywood bullies, he had his own story.

"I swear to God almighty who made me, Kate! If that boy comes to this house with a terrible result, it's not exposure exercise he'll be going to, he'll be leaving my house for good!" He could heard his father rage at his mum from their room and he clenched his teeth so tightly that his mouth muscles began to dance.

"We're just going to keep praying for him," he heard his Mum's pathetic defense and groaned inwardly.

'I just want to die,' he thought to himself and the truthfulness of his word scared him for a second. He really was suicidal, he just hadn't brought himself to say it out loud and now that he finally did, he began to panic. I was surprised at his surprise because he'd been mentioning suicide to me so long that I personally and secretly panicked for him. One day, I saw some straight lines bruises on his wrist and when I asked him, he just shrugged and said he slit his own wrist when he got bored; "I like feeling pain," he smiled.

Sam spoke a lot of pidgin and acted like a tout but I knew it was only a mechanism to cover his real timid nature up. I've heard him speak English and to be honest, he sounds better than some so called learned adults—plus his taste in music is absolutely premium. One time, I had my eyes wide open in shock when I caught him listening to "Fine Line" by Harry Styles and singing it word for word. Only premium music lovers listen to Harry Styles in my opinion.

"I just think my parents love my sister more than they like me—they'll never admit it, but they think she has more potentials than I do—they think she's smarter than me because she doesn't speak much—they don't know how dumb and wayward she actually is." He sadly confessed to me during break one afternoon and although I told him that calling his sister "dumb" wasn't nice, I still felt his pain regardless.

"I don't think they hate you—they probably just hate the way you behave," I spoke my truth, half hoping that he'd recoil from opening up but he surprised me when he nodded his head and said,

"Who wouldn't hate the way I behaved—heck! I hate the way I behave like, all the time! But I'm just 16," I was shocked to discover that he was one year younger than I was, he looked 23. ", the things I know are they things I've seen—the way I act are my medium of expression."

"What do you mean?" I was dumb, I perfectly knew what he meant, I just thought he needed to share more for me to get a clearer picture of where he was coming from with his parental theory.

He took a deep breath, turned to look at me as if scanning to confirm my loyalty and then he shrugged finally said, "I've watched my father break a table on my mother's head," he raised a hand to hush me when I tried to express my feelings towards his revelation, "I've not gotten to the best part yet—after he broke the table on her head and she was hospitalized, I also watched her beg him to forgive her like he was the victim," at this point, it didn't look like he was talking to me anymore, he was just...talking. "My father is a very manipulative person, he hurts people and he makes them beg—I've made my research, he's a Narcissist. I'm scared I just might be too," he finally looked at me and I didn't know how to react to the tears that lingered on his face so I just patted him on the head and told him everything was going to be fine. "I feel like I'm losing my mind 100% of the time and school is my only form of release. If I don't make someone feel bad, especially girls, I feel bad, but then I still end up feeling bad for making people feel bad; am I making sense?"

"Perfectly," I assured him. "Why does your mum take it anyway? Why does she take his bullying and manipulation?" I asked because I'd seen his mother on several occasions and she didn't look like someone who would accept the harsh dealings of life. She was too pretty to fit the role of a punching bag.

"She broke a marriage. I guess she thinks it's her Karma for breaking a home and that is another thing that drives me crazy! I feel like somehow, I'll suffer for her sins too because I've seen my step siblings and their mum—they are not good at all."

Now I didn't know what to say to that.

Sam ran his fingers through the mark on his wrist before he rose from his bed to prepare for the day. He was about to click on Harry Style's Fine Line when he saw my message and responded with a smiley face emoji.

TEMI: HANG IN THERE, YOU'LL BE ALRIGHT.

SAM: I'll try.
He hit the "send" button and pressed play on Harry Styles.

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