Chapter 2 Framed

The fight started going down and everyone returned back to their classes. Returning to my seat , a sense of purpose surged within me. I had deviated from my original plan, but it felt right, I was just so happy that I had a chance to talk and experience this kind of familiarity with my classmates. Soon after the fight the closing bell brought both relief and trepidation to me, I wanted to rush home and write down every single thing that happened that day in my journal. Before heading home, I needed to attend to an errand for my mother.

She had sent me to get something somewhere near my school once it was closing so I could bring it home to her. As I left the school grounds, I heard the whispers once more,

'She is very rude, she thinks she can talk to everyone anyhow.' By one of my classmates telling the other opponents. My legs were shocked, I was almost falling to the ground and my eyes got teary but I had to hold it in. It was as though the very people I had stood up for now stood against me. It was bewildering. As I thought we were all in it together knowing they had already apologized to each other and owned up to their mistakes leaving only me behind looking like the bad one.

Upon getting home, I found the door open I just went in and delved into my chores, assignments, and took care of my uniform.

My mother was asleep, granting me the solitude to contemplate in my room.

I rushed into my room and closed the door behind me, allowing my tears to flow freely. I wept for the wounds I had unknowingly inflicted upon myself. Each tear was a confirmation to my longing for acceptance, a silent plea for understanding all I needed in a friend, after long crying I remembered drifting off to sleep not even eating dinner that night.

Morning came, as it always did. Then darkness couldn't hold back the inevitable. I couldn't bear the thought of staying home, but I really wanted to but I know how fast my mother's concerns can grow. Then I just got out of bed and did the necessary morning duties. Once again despite my haste, I found myself among the latecomers at school. After sneaking back and forth I finally found my way into my classroom, but that day I had something in mind, I resolved to break the silence. I greeted everyone with a smile, though I recognized the artifice. It was a small reprieve, a day where I could pretend.

Yet, the memories of the previous day lingered, an ever-present shadow. Everyone just looked at me and removed their face, no emotion, nothing on their face, they just stared and removed their face. In the end, I never truly found my voice with the other class. They hated me until they graduated. I couldn't even have a proper conversation with them whenever we had class meetings. The painful part was my classmates were already talking with them. It was a lesson in humility, a confirmation to the power of perception.

Still sitting at my window, I suddenly remembered one again, this was almost the most painful memory I ever had. It was that time again, the end of term, marked by the triumphant conclusion of our final exams, we always held a party for it. The air was charged with anticipation, buzzing with the promise of our session party. The other day my mum and I went to a boutique to shop for my dress, shoes and everything I needed for the party.

It was finally the day for the party, I remembered the scent of rice wafted through the air, an olfactory prelude to the feast that awaited. I couldn't help but smile; the prospect of good food always had a special place in my heart. With care, I had made my hair just the way I liked it, and my dress, pressed to perfection, lay in wait. As I prepared to leave for school, I knew Mum would join later. There was a certain excitement in the air, a palpable sense of accomplishment, I bid her goodbye and left for school. As I entered my school premises I loved the decoration. It was beautifully decorated in purple. I just loved the carpet, ribbons and balloons used in decorating the premises. I went to my class to drop my bag off, I hesitated to change, wanting to savor the moment a little longer. After all, who doesn't enjoy a grand entrance? I was eager to contribute to the preparations, as I moved from different places offering my assistance to those organizing the party, from the kitchen where the food was made, to the cleaners, to the decorators , to the presenters, I was just everywhere. Then I remembered I haven't visited those who organize the prize presentation for those who come out successfully in their exams, I immediately rushed there and started helping out, it was then, while glancing at the class rankings, that I made a discovery that sent my heart soaring. There it was, my name, in the coveted second position in the whole of my class. A rush of pride surged through me, knowing that Mum and dad would be delighted.

Excitedly, I hurried to share my news with my friends, only to be met with their subdued expressions. Confusion settled in my chest. Why were they not as thrilled as I was? I then blamed myself for telling them, I never speak with them in class, so what was the essence of running to them and telling them how I did in my exam? It would seem like I was being full of myself and I was right. I overheard hushed murmurs that cut through me like a blade.

''She's gotten too big for her britches,' they whispered.

''All because of that second position,'' scoffed another.

"I told you this girl is really proud, you said No", said another to another.

One even summoned the courage to walk up to me and tell me

"You know you are very proud, you're trying to make us who didn't make it to that position feel less of ourselves right?Well it is just who you are so I'm not surprised," she said, hissing at me.

My heart sank. How could this be? I hadn't done anything wrong. I was simply reveling in my own accomplishments. Was it a mistake to share my joy? I guess it was, or was there a way I said it that seemed proud, Again, I questioned myself, my confidence waning. As the party progressed, I found myself yearning for the comfort of my own space. I longed for the quietude of my room, a sanctuary where I could collect my thoughts. It was a bittersweet realization; I would soon be free of these judgments for a few months. I could take this time to reflect, to plan how I would navigate the challenges of the next term. With each passing moment, the weight of expectations and assumptions pressed upon me. The party, once a celebration, became a mirror reflecting the complexities of friendships and self-worth. As laughter echoed around me, I couldn't help but long for the comfort of introspection. Immediately the party was over and I got my prize, I just told mum thatt we had to leave immediately.

(Sighs), it was a lot to handle, it was a lot to handle then.

In the days that followed, as summer beckoned, I retreated into the hope of my thoughts. Each day was a canvas, waiting for the strokes of my resolve to paint a new picture. I planned so much and I really used my holiday to do some self reflection and I spent time with only me and me. I promised myself that the next term would be different. I would find the balance between celebrating my achievements and empathizing with the struggles of my peers and at the same time monitoring the manner of how I speak.

And so, the next term approached, carrying with it the promise of growth, resilience, and a heart eager to navigate the complexities of friendships and self-worth this time as I stepped into the school premises. As the next term began, our class saw some new faces and a shifting dynamic. Among them, I found comfort in the company of a new friend. She radiated warmth and soon became my closest companion. Our days were woven with shared laughter and whispered confidences, cementing a bond that felt inseparable. It was almost comical how close we were, yet it also felt like the most natural thing in the world (laughs). I didn't even know the other classmates were jealous, jealous of me making friends, then what exactly was their problem.

It all went back to normal after what happened this particular day. One fateful day, we were caught in a whirlwind of playfulness during lunch, since I started becoming friends with my new friends, she made me join every game that was played in the class. That day we were so ignorant of the heedless hazard lurking in our classroom or should I say we were so into our game. The doorknob had been cruelly yanked off, leaving a jagged, menacing shard of metal in its place. And it could tear anybody's skin off once it comes in contact with you. It was a catastrophe waiting to happen. We were still playing the game, my new friend, another girl, and I found ourselves near that treacherous door unknowingly. We were on the cusp of our escape plan, ready for the thrill of evasion. We were in the midst of a lively game, trying to avoid being tagged as the next 'catcher.' Everything appeared perfectly harmless, didn't it? (Scoffs) Until the pursuing girl closed in on us. Panic erupted, and in the tumult, my new friend and the other girl collided. Time seemed to slow as I watched in horror, unable to intervene before the metal edge savagely tore into my new friend's hand. The sight etched itself into my memory like a scar. Then came the accusations, sharp as knives.

'You pushed her!' they cried,

'Why did you do that?' One said pushing me away

'That was wicked!' Another attacked

'Argh, you're so wicked!' Another said, looking at me and calling the rest to come see what happened.