The Saints Of Mibba
Angels.
Since I was born, I have been put on a pedestal. To my family, I was the one who was going to do great things. I was the one who was going to go to college, make a lot of money, and take care of them for the rest of their lives. They told family, friends. Everyone about me.
Because I was a genius.
I would smile, nodding my head in agreement. Yes, I would change the world. Yes, I would become famous. I would do all of these things, because that was what was expected of me. But no one asked what it was that I wanted. No one asked what Miriah needed in life, because they were too caught up in what it was they needed me to do.
And then, she stepped into my life.
Gym class, 8th grade.
I was at a whole new school. A junior high, where we were in the lower grades, so of course, we were the ones being picked on. It wasn’t something that I was used to, because in my old town, 8th grade was the top of the middle school. We were on top of the totem pole, making fun of the smaller kids around us. But not this time around.
I had always been a smaller person than most. My wrists were so tiny that you could wrap your fingers around it, touching your middle finger to your thumb. I had what you called ‘chicken legs’; insanely thin, covered in deep purple veins. Even in 8th grade, I was unnaturally shorter than my fellow classmates. Guys made fun of me. Girls looked at me jealously. All because I was tiny.
But I hated it.
In gym class, I’d wrap my legs in baggy track pants. The gym was always cold, and I knew that my veins would peek through my skin, earning disgusted looks from my peers. My shoulder length plain brown hair fell around my face as we stood against the wall, waiting for the teacher to appear from whatever it was he was doing. The guys were down on their side of the basketball court, tossing around balls. Each time one hit the wooden floors, the thud resounded in my ears.
And that’s when I saw her.
Smaller than even I was, she glided across the gymnasium. Like myself, she was clad in baggy black pants, a tight fitting tank top adorning her chest. Long light brown hair fell around her waist, swishing as she walked. Her cheeks were well rounded, and bright pink from smiling. Eyes the color of warm honey scanned the girls that were standing on the outskirts of the court, then landed on me.
The new girl.
Something clicked within me. Looking at her, I knew that something was about to happen. It was like finding a lost piece of yourself, something that you had been searching for all your life and having it suddenly appear in front of your face. It hit me like a ton of bricks to the face, and I found myself gaping at her. Her beauty was astounding, her aura almost a pure white. And then, her small feet made their way over to me. She stood in front of me, the top of her head barely reaching my chin.
“Hey, I’m Angel.”
Angel. Even that name was pure.
Before I could reply, we were ushered into a small group. I could feel Angel’s presence directly to my right, standing close. Her arm brushed mine, and I felt my cheeks heat up. We were doing a karate class. Not something typically taught, and even now, the PE teacher was hesitant. We got into pairs and I found myself with Angel, a childlike smile plastered on her face as she heard we’d be doing techniques on each other.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said.
Little did I know that those words would come to haunt my entire existence.
===
A year together. That’s all we had. Just a year. 52 weeks. 365 days. 8,766 hours. 525,949 minutes. 31,556,926 seconds.
And yet, it wasn’t enough.
I had grown addicted to her presence. I found myself aching to be around her, needing her at my side. The rumors that circled around us meant little. We loved each other, and that was all that mattered. We weren’t ‘lesbians’ or ‘bisexual’. We had a connection much deeper than petty words.
We were soul mates.
And then, she was tore from me. It felt heartless, painful. It felt as though this was being done to me on purpose, because I wasn’t living up to my family standards. With Angel around, I didn’t care what my family wanted. I didn’t care what they said, what they tried to press onto me. She taught me that it was okay to live your life how you chose fit, not how others did.
And now, she was gone.
Her mother received a job offer a few states away. My Angel was leaving me, cold and alone. I felt like I would never be whole again. After she left, I lost myself. I was drowning slowly, and I couldn’t find myself again. Every night, I would cry myself to sleep after shakily making deep cuts in my left wrist. Any sort of pain was better than the heartache that I was experiencing. I forgot how to live, forgot how to smile. Nothing was worth it anymore. Nothing was worth doing without her. Because she was my other half. She was my missing link, the other part of my soul.
My mother, who knew me better than anyone, saw past the mask that I plastered onto my face when I was in their presence. She saw how much I was dying inside, how much I just needed to be with Angel. And so, she let me go. For six months, I was to live with Angel and her family, several states away, where I would once again be the new girl. But that didn’t phase me. Because nothing phased me when she was around.
With Angel at my side, I felt like I could conquer the world. Maybe I could.
===
Looking back on my time there, I realize how much those six months changed me. She taught me how to live on my own. She taught me that it’s okay to be different, that it’s okay to be independent. She inspired me to write, since that was all that I wanted to do. She read my stories, read my poetry. She cried at all the right parts, laughed at the others.
I’m no longer in school. I’ve graduated, and have started college. I’ve joined the Army, despite my family’s persistence that it would only ruin my life. Because Angel told me that it’s okay.
I don’t talk to Angel anymore. Not because I don’t want to, but because we’ve drifted apart. She has a family, a baby. I have my career, my school. We had different roads in life. While I took the left fork, she chose right.
I will always be grateful towards her. She will always be my greatest inspiration. Because of her, I’m doing something that I’ve wanted to do my whole life.
Write.
And it’s because of her, that I’ve joined Mibba. It’s because of her that I have the courage to put my heart and soul onto my site for the whole world to see. And it’s because of her, that I’ve found a new family of writers, of people who are just like me. Now, it’s Mibba who encourages me. Now, it’s Mibba that allows me to be different.
Mibba is my new Angel.
And it will always be that way.
Because I was a genius.
I would smile, nodding my head in agreement. Yes, I would change the world. Yes, I would become famous. I would do all of these things, because that was what was expected of me. But no one asked what it was that I wanted. No one asked what Miriah needed in life, because they were too caught up in what it was they needed me to do.
And then, she stepped into my life.
Gym class, 8th grade.
I was at a whole new school. A junior high, where we were in the lower grades, so of course, we were the ones being picked on. It wasn’t something that I was used to, because in my old town, 8th grade was the top of the middle school. We were on top of the totem pole, making fun of the smaller kids around us. But not this time around.
I had always been a smaller person than most. My wrists were so tiny that you could wrap your fingers around it, touching your middle finger to your thumb. I had what you called ‘chicken legs’; insanely thin, covered in deep purple veins. Even in 8th grade, I was unnaturally shorter than my fellow classmates. Guys made fun of me. Girls looked at me jealously. All because I was tiny.
But I hated it.
In gym class, I’d wrap my legs in baggy track pants. The gym was always cold, and I knew that my veins would peek through my skin, earning disgusted looks from my peers. My shoulder length plain brown hair fell around my face as we stood against the wall, waiting for the teacher to appear from whatever it was he was doing. The guys were down on their side of the basketball court, tossing around balls. Each time one hit the wooden floors, the thud resounded in my ears.
And that’s when I saw her.
Smaller than even I was, she glided across the gymnasium. Like myself, she was clad in baggy black pants, a tight fitting tank top adorning her chest. Long light brown hair fell around her waist, swishing as she walked. Her cheeks were well rounded, and bright pink from smiling. Eyes the color of warm honey scanned the girls that were standing on the outskirts of the court, then landed on me.
The new girl.
Something clicked within me. Looking at her, I knew that something was about to happen. It was like finding a lost piece of yourself, something that you had been searching for all your life and having it suddenly appear in front of your face. It hit me like a ton of bricks to the face, and I found myself gaping at her. Her beauty was astounding, her aura almost a pure white. And then, her small feet made their way over to me. She stood in front of me, the top of her head barely reaching my chin.
“Hey, I’m Angel.”
Angel. Even that name was pure.
Before I could reply, we were ushered into a small group. I could feel Angel’s presence directly to my right, standing close. Her arm brushed mine, and I felt my cheeks heat up. We were doing a karate class. Not something typically taught, and even now, the PE teacher was hesitant. We got into pairs and I found myself with Angel, a childlike smile plastered on her face as she heard we’d be doing techniques on each other.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said.
Little did I know that those words would come to haunt my entire existence.
===
A year together. That’s all we had. Just a year. 52 weeks. 365 days. 8,766 hours. 525,949 minutes. 31,556,926 seconds.
And yet, it wasn’t enough.
I had grown addicted to her presence. I found myself aching to be around her, needing her at my side. The rumors that circled around us meant little. We loved each other, and that was all that mattered. We weren’t ‘lesbians’ or ‘bisexual’. We had a connection much deeper than petty words.
We were soul mates.
And then, she was tore from me. It felt heartless, painful. It felt as though this was being done to me on purpose, because I wasn’t living up to my family standards. With Angel around, I didn’t care what my family wanted. I didn’t care what they said, what they tried to press onto me. She taught me that it was okay to live your life how you chose fit, not how others did.
And now, she was gone.
Her mother received a job offer a few states away. My Angel was leaving me, cold and alone. I felt like I would never be whole again. After she left, I lost myself. I was drowning slowly, and I couldn’t find myself again. Every night, I would cry myself to sleep after shakily making deep cuts in my left wrist. Any sort of pain was better than the heartache that I was experiencing. I forgot how to live, forgot how to smile. Nothing was worth it anymore. Nothing was worth doing without her. Because she was my other half. She was my missing link, the other part of my soul.
My mother, who knew me better than anyone, saw past the mask that I plastered onto my face when I was in their presence. She saw how much I was dying inside, how much I just needed to be with Angel. And so, she let me go. For six months, I was to live with Angel and her family, several states away, where I would once again be the new girl. But that didn’t phase me. Because nothing phased me when she was around.
With Angel at my side, I felt like I could conquer the world. Maybe I could.
===
Looking back on my time there, I realize how much those six months changed me. She taught me how to live on my own. She taught me that it’s okay to be different, that it’s okay to be independent. She inspired me to write, since that was all that I wanted to do. She read my stories, read my poetry. She cried at all the right parts, laughed at the others.
I’m no longer in school. I’ve graduated, and have started college. I’ve joined the Army, despite my family’s persistence that it would only ruin my life. Because Angel told me that it’s okay.
I don’t talk to Angel anymore. Not because I don’t want to, but because we’ve drifted apart. She has a family, a baby. I have my career, my school. We had different roads in life. While I took the left fork, she chose right.
I will always be grateful towards her. She will always be my greatest inspiration. Because of her, I’m doing something that I’ve wanted to do my whole life.
Write.
And it’s because of her, that I’ve joined Mibba. It’s because of her that I have the courage to put my heart and soul onto my site for the whole world to see. And it’s because of her, that I’ve found a new family of writers, of people who are just like me. Now, it’s Mibba who encourages me. Now, it’s Mibba that allows me to be different.
Mibba is my new Angel.
And it will always be that way.
♠ ♠ ♠
by PhoenixRising.