Indiscernable Games
2
After what seemed like hours, I picked myself up and grudgingly walked upstairs to my room. The first thing you see in my bedroom is the large bay window that looms over you as you walk in. Usually it invites you in seeping warm light through its panes. Today however, my whole room looked uninviting. No light glared in my window today just cold, grey shadow that matched my mood perfectly.
I could never understand why I was always picked on. I knew I looked different but I didn’t look like a complete alien. I moved school three years ago and I didn’t have one friend. No one talked to me. It wasn’t my fault. I made an effort. Everyone backed away as if I was going to eat them. I felt so alone. I always felt alone.
While everyone caked themselves in fake tan I had very sallow skin. White as Ivory. And my lips were also an unnatural shade of dark red, getting me nicknames such as ‘vampire’ and ‘witch’. My hair was jet black; there was no hint of brown or purple just black. It fell limp across my face most of the time, shielding me from the world. Making me invisible. I was plain. Boring. Ugly. I was skinny but not a pretty skinny. More of a boyish skinny. I was flat, no curves, nothing, just flat everywhere.
I used to have friends. When I was eleven, my best friend was Laura. She was perfect. She was tall, tanned and blonde and she was curvy but skinny. She had been everything I wanted to be. I envied her but I idolised her too. I had been so delighted when she came over to talk to me. At first, I didn’t want to talk. I mean what could a girl like me and a girl like her possibly have in common. But she had been perfect. We used to talk for hours and hours about every possible thing imaginable. It never made sense to me why people never talked to her. She was amazing! Probably because she was with me but she didn’t seem to mind. We only needed each other.
When we turned twelve she moved away, taking half of me with her. She used to send letters but we have lost touch now. Then Jason arrived. He transferred from a school in the city because he had been expelled. We were both fourteen and I couldn’t believe it when an actual boy talked to me. He was dreamy. Tall with ebony skin but he had the deepest, dark brown eyes with short spiky brown hair that had always been covered in gel. He was my best friend. But we had both been childish and curious. He kissed me a couple of times; it had felt weird but good. The relationship never developed though because he too had to move schools again. He was great but he was a rebel. I guess he made new friends because he stopped writing too.
I wiped the tears from my face and took deep breath, starting to calm down. I stumbled over to my wardrobe and rooted around the bottom of it to find the faded brown shoebox. I placed it on my bed and slowly began to ruffle through the contents, smiling. There was a picture of Laura and I standing on top of the jungle gym outside in our old school yard. Her hair flew in the wind while mine just kinda flopped in front of my face. We both had huge triumphant smiles on our faces as if we had just conquered Mount Everest. Our hands out stretched we both looked so young and so happy. I found a picture of Jason and I. He was pushing me on the old tire swing they used to have in their back garden. Jason had his head thrown back, his mouth open with laughter, his eyes closed and his hair messy and windswept. I was clinging onto the rope for dear life my face screwed up into a horrified expression with my mouth open so wide I could almost hear myself screaming. I found some more pictures of my friends and I. There was a couple of letters from them too. Laura’s joined handwriting written so neatly it could have been calligraphy, her I’s dotted with little hearts or stars. Jason handwriting was barely readable with big blotches of ink scattered throughout. I just wished they were both still here with me, and then I wouldn’t care if people made fun at me. I missed them so much especially as I rooted through our things.
Then I reached the bottom and the last photo glared up at me. It was of my Dad and I. His cheeky grin stared up out of the box at me while I was wriggling as he tickled me. I turned away and re-filled the box with all the things and filed them safely away at the back of my wardrobe, not even letting the emotion of that picture leave my heart.
I could never understand why I was always picked on. I knew I looked different but I didn’t look like a complete alien. I moved school three years ago and I didn’t have one friend. No one talked to me. It wasn’t my fault. I made an effort. Everyone backed away as if I was going to eat them. I felt so alone. I always felt alone.
While everyone caked themselves in fake tan I had very sallow skin. White as Ivory. And my lips were also an unnatural shade of dark red, getting me nicknames such as ‘vampire’ and ‘witch’. My hair was jet black; there was no hint of brown or purple just black. It fell limp across my face most of the time, shielding me from the world. Making me invisible. I was plain. Boring. Ugly. I was skinny but not a pretty skinny. More of a boyish skinny. I was flat, no curves, nothing, just flat everywhere.
I used to have friends. When I was eleven, my best friend was Laura. She was perfect. She was tall, tanned and blonde and she was curvy but skinny. She had been everything I wanted to be. I envied her but I idolised her too. I had been so delighted when she came over to talk to me. At first, I didn’t want to talk. I mean what could a girl like me and a girl like her possibly have in common. But she had been perfect. We used to talk for hours and hours about every possible thing imaginable. It never made sense to me why people never talked to her. She was amazing! Probably because she was with me but she didn’t seem to mind. We only needed each other.
When we turned twelve she moved away, taking half of me with her. She used to send letters but we have lost touch now. Then Jason arrived. He transferred from a school in the city because he had been expelled. We were both fourteen and I couldn’t believe it when an actual boy talked to me. He was dreamy. Tall with ebony skin but he had the deepest, dark brown eyes with short spiky brown hair that had always been covered in gel. He was my best friend. But we had both been childish and curious. He kissed me a couple of times; it had felt weird but good. The relationship never developed though because he too had to move schools again. He was great but he was a rebel. I guess he made new friends because he stopped writing too.
I wiped the tears from my face and took deep breath, starting to calm down. I stumbled over to my wardrobe and rooted around the bottom of it to find the faded brown shoebox. I placed it on my bed and slowly began to ruffle through the contents, smiling. There was a picture of Laura and I standing on top of the jungle gym outside in our old school yard. Her hair flew in the wind while mine just kinda flopped in front of my face. We both had huge triumphant smiles on our faces as if we had just conquered Mount Everest. Our hands out stretched we both looked so young and so happy. I found a picture of Jason and I. He was pushing me on the old tire swing they used to have in their back garden. Jason had his head thrown back, his mouth open with laughter, his eyes closed and his hair messy and windswept. I was clinging onto the rope for dear life my face screwed up into a horrified expression with my mouth open so wide I could almost hear myself screaming. I found some more pictures of my friends and I. There was a couple of letters from them too. Laura’s joined handwriting written so neatly it could have been calligraphy, her I’s dotted with little hearts or stars. Jason handwriting was barely readable with big blotches of ink scattered throughout. I just wished they were both still here with me, and then I wouldn’t care if people made fun at me. I missed them so much especially as I rooted through our things.
Then I reached the bottom and the last photo glared up at me. It was of my Dad and I. His cheeky grin stared up out of the box at me while I was wriggling as he tickled me. I turned away and re-filled the box with all the things and filed them safely away at the back of my wardrobe, not even letting the emotion of that picture leave my heart.