The Cure

Six: The Trigger

The cold glares from most of my classmates didn't shock me as it did the very first time I walked into the cruel classroom that seemed to be destined to despise me, but even if it didn't really surprise me, it still fazed me in a way every time they would show me a glimpse of their emotionless expressions. How could it not? It was actually on the normal schedule of my depressing mornings. As I quickly headed towards my vandalized desk, I tried not to meet any of the merciless eyes that were trying to throw daggers at me. If a stranger sauntered their way in, they would think I've done something horribly wrong to deserve the whole class sending unforgiving, soundless messages with their eyes to get lost.

I would never engrave or attempt to damage the small table that belonged to me for the time in any way, though my peers didn't quite agree with me in that aspect. In the beginning it never crossed my mind that they would have been the perpetrator of the vandalism, though I had once arrived earlier than my typical timing and had witnessed a mixed group of my peers each holding a pen. I wouldn't have paid much attention to it until I observed them forcibly etching not-very-nice words into a desk- my desk. From then on, I wasn't surprised with the hate written on my backpack, or the garbage stuffed in my cubby. I now knew who had done the unpleasant crime, even though it was the people I would least expect it to be.

But I didn't mind that it was my very own classmates that had done such a terrible thing. It didn't really matter to me because in a few more months I would be heading to a whole new classroom, with a whole new teacher and a whole new class. It would surely get better every year that passed by, it had to get better. It was nearly impossible for them to hate me for so long, so all I had to do was wait for that time to come in which I could laugh with all the others. Instead of a scowl, we would all be grinning ear to ear that it would hurt so much, but we couldn't stop beaming a wonderful smile. That was my ultimate dream, I aspired for time to quickly pass by and allow me to finally laugh until I couldn't even think of trying to crack even the of tiniest smiles. I've never done anything like that, especially with another person who wouldn't glare at every movement I made.

As per usual, I didn't really pay much attention in class, hence my horrible marks on my report card. No one really cared though, mother and father were too preoccupied with work. Early morning they would leave to go collect some money by working for many long, hard hours and the very late of the night they would come back- when I was knocked out long ago. My brother locked himself in his room, only coming out to get a snack as he had his own toilet in the room. He was obsessed with his wretched games, those games that permitted no sibling connection between the two of us. I don't even know if his hair colour was brown or black- maybe he dyed it blond? I had no clue whatsoever, I was pretty ashamed of that fact, even if it was the truth.

The teacher also wasn't too fond of me, so even if I did pay attention, she would still try to send a silent message to get out of her line of sight. This was quite obviously not possible because I couldn't simply walk out of the classroom, so I opted to sit patiently until the extremely boring lesson was over. I watched the clock tick by as seconds, minutes and soon enough, a few hours had passed with my arms sore from all the different positions I attempted to rest my head in. The hard, wooden desk wasn't exactly a replica of a fluffy pillow.

The repetitive sound of the shrill school bell found its way to my ears, a smile creeping onto my chubby face. The exact same process, every day. Though the part most exciting to me was this moment. When the studying, work and the usage of the brain were thrown out the window.

It was recess time.

I knew recess was spent laugh and playing with your friends, but I didn't have any friends- not even an acquaintance. But I didn't mind. So I spent this time alone, having no one approaching me was a bit lonely, but I could handle it. Because I knew it would get better as time passed on. Things would change and when I got older I would have tons of friends- but even if I only had a few, I would forever treasure them. Though everything needed time. At least, that's what I believed at the time.