FADED VIRIDITY

CHAPTER FIVE

Racing through to the highlights of grade 11, I clearly remember the day I was summoned to the principal's office, alone, for the first time in my entire schooling career. I was the good girl, remember? I do not get called alone. Sure, I went to the office when the entire class was called for sitting in the class during break, but never alone!!! I was filled with anxiety; Sweat slithered down my back. 

My heart pounded against my chest as if I were an amination witnessing my scarlet heart-shaped organ punch through its secured cage and then pop back in. To make matters worse, it was in the middle of winter. Naturally, I was covered in two pieces of clothing from head to toe. I gathered up my courage, swallowed my dignity and marched my oven like body down three flights of stairs to the principal's office. I had no choice. I banged worriedly on the door, tap, tap, tap... and anticipated a response, inwardly praying that a space shuttle landed on top of me. Yet, with my luck, nothing of the sort occurred, and I was called in. As my trepidation began to hike up me as if I were a mountain, I reluctantly pushed open the light brown door and stuck my right foot out. I whispered 'please be good to me' and released the foot I held suspended allowing it to touch the tiles beneath me. I moved slowly. 

Like a toddler learning how to walk. With each step I got better until I reached the principal's desk. His desk, as always, was covered in hundreds of papers, multiple pens and a school stamp. It was a broad, unattractive desk. Forever unkempt, and the shade of brown used to cover its naked base was simply boring. A man was seated on the desk's edge across from the principal. When I followed the thick beard, I noticed a healthy-looking man... Mr. William Hagen! Mr. Hagen was knowledgeable in many areas, he taught us geography. He served as a mentor to me and was my favorite instructor at school. Over all things, his character was something I admired. He was close in age to my father and was a kind, incredibly polite man. I didn't know whether to feel relieved or petrified. "Sir, I won't identify names, but one girl had outstanding grades for her mapwork in geography. With a chuckle, Mr. Hagen told Mr. Buckman, "I think it's the highest mark yet. They both looked in my direction with huge smiles on 14their face. I had a smile, too, but I doubt they could see it when I shied away and looked down. I was rather bashful. Still looking in my direction, Mr.Buckman decided to speak.

"Ahh, congratulations. It is with dedication that one will always succeed", Mr.Buckman said.

"Well, I could hardly take credit for the achievements of a good teacher, Sir", I said slyly as I turned to my teacher.

"Well said. Well said. That is very true, indeed", replied the principal.

So, following our sincere yet modest talk, I was given documents pertaining to some topic that eluded me, and I was sent back to class. I believe that all of my stress and concern were in vain. Yet it was worthwhile. Knowing that I had inspired my teacher, made me happy. Coming back to earth, in all honesty, it proved to be a rather troubling year for me. Though I pretended that nothing was wrong with me, everyone around me noticed instantly. It was observed that I spoke less, I ate less. Nothing interested me. I felt completely alone. Scary, huh? It really was.

I had no zest for life, no gumption in what once brought me excitement. I did not feel depressed, I felt tranquil yet it seemed unnatural. I felt as if I were an aimless spirit roaming around on lands that I did not belong on. My resistance to temptation oddly grew stronger. My desires for anything, anything at all, faded rapidly. I felt the task of walking up every morning, pointless. I was just breathing. I became a stranger to the people I've known for years, a tenant in my parents' home and just a girl to my best friend. I pushed Amelia away and it stabbed me as I watched my decision lead her back to Sofia. I couldn't bear to be friendly with her, but I couldn't take it that she walked away either.

On the other hand, my academic life flourished with A's and B's in math and physics, and I was elected as deputy head prefect for my school. The great treasures of my schooling life happened when I couldn't completely appreciate them. It irked me when anyone lent me a helping hand, and it bothered me just as much when they didn't try. It was the sleepless nights and the overpowering, non-stop anger that made me focus more on my books and ignore my accomplishments. Six months had past and I still felt no change. 15After much havoc, my parents convinced me to see a dietician and a psychologist. I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa. An eating disorder that resulted in abnormal weight loss, a concentrated fear of gaining weight and a distorted perception of body image. I saw a palpable presence within myself of those symptoms that were listed in the textbook in bullet form. I would make myself throw up the 'bad' foods and irrespective of how much weight I lost, I still looked enormous in the mirror. I would have a glass of ProNutro cereal in a milk for breakfast, a total of 4 whole-wheat crackers for the first coffee break at school, and half a slice of apple for the second break. When I got home I either had a bowl of bran flakes cereal or one egg. That was a total of all my meals, every day. When I craved a piece of chocolate or forced by my family members to eat cake or pizza, I would eat it and instantly run to the restroom to discard of it from my system. It was a rather lengthy process once was diagnosed. I was stuck in hospitals for hours on end, I was being forced to eat foods that my body could no longer digest. It was ironic how everyone was against me to help me. Having a psychologist was one of the worst experiences for me. I didn't like talking to inquisitive people, especially those that I didn't know, even if he was assisting me.

My mother convinced me that I went through all of that because I lost my dog after having him for ten years. He was an integral part of my life, but I hardly think that was the reason for a condition that could be fatal. My parents frequently quarreled and tended to act immaturely. My father was manipulative, and my parents were both verbally violent. In retrospect, I can see that my parents were mostly to blame for my issues. They made up for it by putting food on the table, covering our expenses, doing our homework with us, and even attending our plays. However, I was unaware of how much their interaction with one another had an impact on me at the time. Growing up, I frequently faced criticism for being overly sensitive or in need of assurance. I was judged harshly for being a bad kid for knowing the truth - that our living situation was toxic. Unfortunately, I was never taken seriously and my emotions were not heard of seen.

But surprisingly, at the end of grade 11, I started to feel like myself again after that agonizing experience. I lost a number of relationships as the year came to conclusion but my heart started to heal. Going into grade 12 whilst carrying the weight of wondering if I would be pardoned was continual anguish over the 16December Holidays because I drove everyone away. Well, I could only find out on that first day of school.