THE BEGINNING OF THE END; MY JOURNEY TO DRUG ADDICTION Pt. 4

Posted: May 15, 2015 by Dorian in Tough Stuff
Tags: , , ,

“Mom, it’s Jess, may I come in?” I heard a grunting sound. I opened the door and slid into her room.

She was at her table, her left hand to her head, periodically adjusting her spectacles. She always brought work home. “Mom, I want

you to help me”, I said. “With what?” she asked, not looking up at all.

I got closer and prepared to begin my speech, when she cut me short. “If this is about that show, forget it”. I was drained. I didn’t know what to say at all. “But Mom…” I said, thinking she would shout at me. She didn’t and I continued.

“Mom, please. It means so much to me. So much…” I sniffed, trying to hold back tears. “I can’t hear you if you keep crying”,she said quietly. I tried not to sob. “It is so important to me. It’s not the trophy, I just love playing the guitar and singing, my connection with music is really strong. Please help me plead with dad to allow me go. Please”.

She put down her pen, looked at me and said “NO”. I said nothing. She wasn’t going to help me. I knew it was over. It was so so ever. I turned to go, tears dripping down my cheeks. I closed the door in time to hear her mumble “sorry”.

  I wasn’t going to do anything about it again. It was over. I didn’t even want to think about it again. I went to my room and also to bed.

  The weekend had gone on normally. I could count the number of words I said over the weekend. They were mainly Yes and No.

  I got to school a bit late on Monday. I had never been this moody before and I was comfortable with it. It seemed the whole world was against me.

Cynthia did win. She won a huge trophy and #500,000. I winced when her name was announced on the assembly. I looked down and began searching for an unknown item on the tiled floor. Amina reached from her row and held my hand. I pulled away.

That could have been me. It could have been me. I kept saying it in my mind. It wasn’t about the prize; it was about the freedom, the acceptance of who I wanted to be. Life isn’t always about Physics, Chemistry and Biology alone.

I had almost gotten to my class when I saw Cynthia, in the middle of some of our classmates,she was grinning from ear to ear. I kept my head down and went inside to sit at my table.

I was getting uncomfortable. Every one who laughed today seemed to be mocking me. Every glance cast my way made me really uneasy. I desperately wanted to cry but that was impossible. I couldn’t cry. Not here. If I did, my mates would think I was just terribly envious.

At lunch, I walked to the cafeteria. My friends were already there. I nodded towards them. They knew better than to talk. Just when I’d wanted to start pushing my rice down my throat, I heard Cynthia say, “attention everyone”, in her over-preppy voice. I put my spoon down and listened.

She walked to the middle of the room,flipped her hair aside and began to talk. “I want to say thanks to everyone who supported me during the competition and also to those who didn’t”, she said, glancing at me quickly. I could see her from the corner of my eye.

She went on, ranting about how much she was happy about winning and how she really felt bad for the person who tried to take her place. It was getting to its limit. I pushed my plate aside, and got up to go to class.

She noticed it made me feel bad and called out in that annoying voice of hers,”Jess,I’m not done with my speech!”. I continued walking. “It’s not my fault you were caged!”,she yelled.

I stopped and turned around to look at her. I clenched my teeth and my eyebrows slanted to touch each other. I began to walk towards her. As I walked past my friends, Amina reached out for me, I gently pushed her hand away and got to the centre of the cafe where Cynthia was standing. She had a sly smile on her face. I tried to fight my urge to hit her. I failed. I took a step back and punched her hard. Right on the left cheek.

Everyone shouted. She fell to the floor and screamed. I stood there,rage in my eyes. A teacher ran in and before I could say a word, I found myself in the Principal’s office. He was shocked to the bone. He removed his spectacles and stared at me. “Why did you do it?”,he kept asking. I couldn’t say a word. I kept my face down. I didn’t feel bad at all. When I realised he was still puzzled at how I could have hit a classmate, I said I was sorry. I kept repeating it.

“Jessica, what happened? This is your fourth year here and this is the first time you’ll be misbehaving. What is wrong with you? What did she do to you? “. I bit my lower lip. “I’m sorry, Sir”. He eventually let me go.

That week,everyone avoided me like a plague. Many teachers kept asking me lots of questions to which I gave no reasonable reply. I became very quiet and distant. I stopped talking totally. What was the need anyways? I wouldn’t even answer a question in class unless a teacher asked me to.

The week finished quickly. I’d just finished washing my not-so-dirty clothes when I heard the doorbell. I rushed to the door and opened it. My mouth fell open at the sight of my friends. They pushed past me and came inside. Goodness! Didn’t they know I wasn’t allowed to have visitors? I closed the door and turned to them. I was really angry. “What are you guys doing here?!”

To be continued.

I haven’t been updating this story as fast as I should. I apologise. I would make it up to y’all! Thank you!

 

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