They say the last day of primary school, is a day no one will forget, and I personally can confirm that.
I was 7 when I realised, I was not like everyone else. I wasn’t like my family and was often reminded I wouldn’t grow up like them. My parents however supported me on my uniqueness, and encouraged me to live true to yourself. Yet, my entire life I lived quite the split personality, at home I was true and everywhere else I was hidden inside of me like a bird trapped in a cage.
Unlike others, I was happy that I was on the dusk of primary school and on the dawn of high school, what I believed a nicer education stage. Unfortunately, the dreadfulness began …show more content…
The class probably laughed for a solid minute while I kept a strong and stern face to stop a tear ruining my hard work on my makeup. I calmly shuffled to my seat at the back of the class where I was not easily noticed and away from everyone else. During the course of class, I discussed the hard work which goes in being special and unique. You have to give thought to simple actions many would do without a second though; which toilet do I go in? Which uniform do I wear? Who do I play with? I have actually never thought I had answered this many questions before, I felt achieved. I was actually intellectually thinking twenty-four hours a day and 7 days a week. To add to this, I was always in a constant battle in this hard working brain of mine, thinking of the positives and negatives of my actions. To put thought to it, I am actually more of a hard worker than the CEO of the most successful company in the world. Like does Bill Gates, need to analyse which toilet he has to go …show more content…
“Probably is, my mother said to stay away from them, they are dirty, annoying and sick. She also said that her disease may be contagious” Rob recounted to the other boy.
Within a second I was dropped to the grubby ground and the two boys ran away like they saw an alien. This time I can definitely tell you, my makeup was ruined. Mother is easily going know I stole her makeup, after she warned me not to put it on. I think I should have trusted mother, as she does know my identity.
I would question myself day after day, what am I? Am I an alien? Am I sick? Am I an outcast? I would cry at our differences. Mothers definition of me being unique and special was fading away, and the definition of me being sick and not human like was growing. I hated being in the wrong body.
Walking towards class at the end of my class, I thought my day couldn’t get any worse, but I was dreadfully wrong. I saw Rob and his mate talk to one of my favourite teacher about me.
“Miss Watson, I need help, I am afraid of Jamie, he is really creepy” Rob fearfully reported to Miss