Misunderstood

Keeya worries, everyday, every minute. It gets so much that she just doesn't want to deal with stress, imperfections, parents and school. She is alone. Or is she? She hasn't really taken notice of a boy called Cainan before but as she realises he is just like her, can she get him to open up to her? On top of all this something terrible is going to happen to one of her close friend's Sanchita. Can Keeya's talent save her or will Sanchita's life get signed away to misery?


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2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

Someone kill me please? I scream and drag myself out of bed. Why is school in the morning? I hate mornings so much! If there was an award for being the worst morning person ever I'd win it hands down. My eyes feel like pins are being forced through them and my eyelids are carrying 20 stone. Why do wake up every morning? I have no reason to. Lugging myself into the bathroom I cringe at the disgusting taste of my morning breath. I wish sleep was forever. It would be like I'm dead but not fully dead. Life would be great if that was the case. I reach for my toothbrush sluggishly, then wet it and coat it with toothpaste. I'm Tired, sleepy and crappy. It's terrible wanting to go to sleep but not being able to. There should be a watch that stops time. I'd love my life so much. I would pause it and sleep for 10 more hours, I could run into shops and help myself to food, I'd never be late anywhere! This should be created somehow, they laws of time need to be defied already. I heave my body into the bath then slowly become relaxed due to the heat from the water. I'm not looking forward to today. I don't look forward to any days honestly. Sigh. In my head, days are just reminders that I'm getting closer and closer to my death and if I died now I'd be on a narrow road to hell. Hope for the zombie apocalypse is this alive though I probably wouldn't even last 5 minutes in. Ha. If humanity depended on me to save them I'd be pretty useless, in fact I'd be the first to die. Wait, during a zombie apocalypse do I get eaten by a zombie or do I get turned into one? Oh, I actually have no clue. My mind ponders on this thought for so long, I'm even out the door on my way to school thinking it. You know what forget this nonsense. I guess I'll never know the answer to this question. As soon as I plug my earphones into my phone the world is drowned out by the sweet voice of Lana Del Rey. I wish I didn't feel like this. I'm useless and pretty much can't do anything. I'm a waste of creation honestly. Suddenly I feel my pocket vibrate. Who could be texting me in the morning? I check my phone and isn't a text. It's a message from Tumblr. Excitement inside me rises; I bet I've got a new follower!

 

'Tumblr: Someone's asked you a question!'

 

 

Ahhh! Someone's asked me a question! This probably seems like such a silly thing to get giddy over but I rarely get questions! Should I open the message now or wait after school? Oh I can't wait. I calmly open my message

'Well basically - I really admire you and you inspire me a lot; you deserve more than what you're acknowledged for I wish I could give you that acknowledgement but unfortunately I can’t. I hope this year is good and fortune for you stay true to what you do baby girl. I love you - Anonymous.'

 

I all but drop onto the floor and do worm. This is the sweetest thing I've ever received! Awwwww! I can't believe they sent this to little ol' me! I'm loved! Wait, Hold on. Hold on. Who sent this message? What if they got the wrong person? I shouldn't get too excited but I'm baffled yet in awe. My heart smiles and spins around in my chest. Maybe I am loved? Maybe someone out there is watching me so carefully and beholding my 'beauty'? LOL '...and the comedian of the year award goes to.....KEEYA MILLER!' I whip my hair and accept my golden trophy; everyone is on their feet clapping away. A smile is fixed on my radiant face. I deserve this award more than anything. Removing my earphones I switch of my phone. Then BAM! The sounds of the real world scream in my face. My feet slam on the concrete pavement; cars bark and howl tearing down the street as soon as the scared traffic lights turn green. Poor traffic lights, they have to cope with noises and smells like this, but I'd rather be here than at school. My legs are being controlled by someone who gets enjoyment out of my suffering because I'm moving faster than I intend to, to the dump I call school. I brush off imaginary crumbs off of my silky school skirt; entering school makes me extra self-conscious. More than I normally am. I wish I wasn't here. I wish I wasn't here. Cackles come from the girls walking behind me. They're not laughing at you Keeya. They have nothing to laugh at. I repeat this to myself so many times and try to believe it but it’s a failed attempt. Yes they do, I'm a walking joke. I slowly the swallow they stone wedged between my dry throat. Okay I'm here now. I'm in the devil's paradise. Smile, laugh and act happy that will get you through the day. Operation happy Keeya is go.

 

Slinking into class I'm bombarded with questions "Why are you late? Why are you only coming in now?! You only live across the road, why are you always late?"

Why are they so obsessed with me? I scream "SHUT THE FUCK UP! I'M LATE BECAUSE I CRIED MYSELF TO SLEEP LAST NIGHT. IT WAS SO BAD THAT IF I HAD ANYTHING TO KILL MYSELF WITH I WOULD HAVE DONE IT. I FELT A TIDAL WAVE OF DISSAPOINTMENT WHEN I OPENED MY EYES THIS MORNING AND BASICALLY HAD NO WILL TO LEAVE BED. BUT I HAD TOO. I SPENT FOREVER IN THE BATH OVERTHINKING STUPID THINGS BECAUSE I'M A SADDO! DO YOU REALLY THINK I WANT TO BE HERE IN A SCHOOL FULL OF BITCHES? THAT'S WHY I AM LATE." I don't really say this. I wish I do though.

 I just shrug "I woke up late."

People are still moaning like my lateness affects them directly. Middle finger why don't you say good morning to them? My heavy head falls onto the table and I'm basically the walking dead until English. Ah, I love English. It's like a relief and a way to express myself without hurting myself. Writing is my gateway to heaven. As soon as a pen or pencil finds my fingers I'm singing in an angelic choir, heavenly hymns to praise and escape. I wish I felt so passionately about my other subjects to be honest, but I'm going to be a writer or a journalist so I guess my talent in English will give me that boost I need. Everyone unpacks there stuff and waits for miss to set up her power point. My eyes decide to be nosey and I cast a glance in Cainan's direction. Cainan's head is down but I can still make out his chiselled jaw from here. His hair is shaved short and his shape up is clean and fresh. He looks up and I catch a glimpse of his hazel/grey eyes. Ice cream inside me melts. His lips are pink and shaped so finely. I want to rub his light brown cheeks; from here they look like a baby's behind. Cainan is 1 billion on the hotness scale but there's a reason he's not swimming in a pool of girl's. Cainan is quiet, very quiet and it isn't the mysterious bad boy kind of quiet. I can feel a vibe from him whenever I see him or he's near. He's in that distressed kind of quiet place where I can hear his cries of pain as his thoughts feast on his mind one by one. I have Cainan on Tumblr, his blog alternates from suicidal to normal. Even though he doesn't reblog a lot of suicidal pictures I know it's on his mind. That blank stare he gives in classes will be the same blank stare seen at his murder. I even remember him tweeting "I hate these thoughts. I hate anxiety." and it worries me deeply to think he could be pushed to the edge. He's so close he can already see himself lying in a pool of blood surrounded by dozens of police cars and ambulances with a bunch of people screaming 'WHY DIDN'T WE SEE THIS COMING?' They did see all the signs they just chose to ignore it. I wish I could get him to know that I understand him. I understand what it feels like to cross the road and pray to get ran over. The burning hope of wanting to die in a freak accident… It's not fair that we feel like this. How did happiness slip away from us? I'd sell my soul just to be happy again; I mean truly happy. My laughs won't be empty they'd be loud and effervescent, when I smile it wouldn't be forced I'd smile and feel it too and my emotions won't feel as extreme as they do now. It's always the good that end up broken and nobody can fully mend what is in pieces.

"Why do we need human rights?" Miss Madison pinches the tips of my ears with this question.

A few hands go up. I lean back in my chair. Why do we need human rights? I haven't a clue.

Smart pants Cecilia answers with "So every human can live and enjoy life without being discriminated, abused, or feel unsafe."

I don't enjoy life. I feel unsafe and I feel like I'm being mentally abused.

"Excellent answer Cecilia! Human rights are made to protect us from our own kind." Her eyes meet mine for a second then quickly she averts her gaze embarrassed. What the...? Was that a sign? What does she think of me? "There are laws against rape, against torture, for freedom of speech etc. But today we'll be looking at a boy called Ezekiel from the Democratic Republic of Congo. He is a Child Soldier and he is only 9 years old." With a click of a button a video is projected on the whiteboard.

 

"It's bad enough that children's lives are torn apart by wars they didn't start. But when they're forced into fighting in the conflict themselves, it causes psychological and physical damage that can often never be repaired. Every child has the right to go to school and to live free from violence. Using kids as soldiers constitutes one of the most horrendous breaches of those rights and it is simply and unequivocally wrong. - War Child"

On the board a little boy stares at me eyes squinted in anger. His mean lips are pursed and his nose is flared like an agitated bull's. The rifle in his hands is his life, a life of violence, hatred and pain. He's only doing what he was taught, because in a world of war and death it is easy to brainwash and poison the innocent mind of a child. I concentrate on his strained veins as he grips onto the gun. The stone hard expression on his face tells me he wants to punish someone. He wants to

punish the men who crept into his sleeping house and dragged his father out onto the confused lawn. They made him beg until he wasn't a man anymore; he was a dog dangling by his life on a thin thread. With crooked smiles they pulled the trigger and father's brains dyed the colour of the green grass. Shrills and screams sliced the air. They were his mother's. Mother's fear trickled out of her eyes and stained her cheeks as this alien man forced himself upon her. Like a rag doll she was beaten and abused until her last thought was 'Why did God inflict this sort of pain on my family?’  He hates the men who threw his sisters into the mouth of a Jeep, then groomed them into sex slaves, so many nieces and nephews he'll never meet. Revenge for this great injustice inflected on the innocent is vital because Ezekiel has scorn engraved in his mind and will not be at rest until justice is found. The presentation eventually draws to an end and I'm pleased to say it wasn't only my mind that was affected. Girls are crying and the boys, as always, try to act as if they weren't deeply affected but the feminine side of them shone through. Miss Madison briefly wipes her tears away then talks "Alright, now I want all of you too be inspired by this presentation on Child Soldiers and how it is a breach of human rights. A local newspaper is holding a competition for young people regarding human rights." Her eyes graze over us to make sure we're paying attention. "All of you have to write an article relating to human rights. For example it could be about gender discrimination in foreign countries, arranged/forced marriages or something that has happened to you like bullying, abuse, whatever you want it to be. But, it has to be no more than 500 words. The winner will get there article published and win a prestigious award."

The pips trill and we all jump up from our seats. "Be inspired! It'll show through you writing."

Finally, something interesting to do at school! I sneak a peek at Cainan who is now holding the door for me, interest seems to hold him. If only I could read minds. Sanchita links arms with me "That was so heart-breaking."

"I know right. I wish I could do something." I frown.

"The world can only change if enough people want change. Not everyone really takes notice of this in day to day life." She sighs.

"I hear you. Maybe when I'm a famous journalist I can make change."

"You'll definitely have an impact on the world Keeya I'll tell you that."

I scrunch up my face. “What do you mean by that?”

A moment goes by with no words. “It’s like you have a strong way with words. Like no one says things like you do.”

I smile “Aw, thanks.”

“See ya Keeya.”

“Bye.” I wave grinning as Sanchita takes a detour towards her from room. What she said was really nice. I never knew others noticed the way I am with words.  I feel like I’m invisible most of the time, even when everyone says hi or begins a conversation with me. They’re just seeing through me. I sigh deeply, how I feel isn’t normal at all. What am I supposed to do? As I walk into form room a group of about 15 year 11s are sat around with my form tutor observing them all. I say nothing and try to blend in with the chairs as I’m walking to my seat. My form tutor loves giving out detentions I swear. Sometimes I just think she’s just lonely. Going home for her must be as much of a dread as it is for me as it is for me. Opening the door and seeing everything you don’t want to see, feeling the ache in your heart that you don’t want to feel but I still think that’s no excuse for her to be the witch she is.

 

“What’s your name again…Keeya! Come here please?” Gracious calls me from across the room as I reach my seat. The year 11s look up at me and observe. The eyes of owls follow and observed me. I see the appalled look on their faces, whispers are shared and right now I want to drop dead. I can’t hear what they are saying but my gut instinct tells me it isn’t want I want to hear. I don’t know what would be worse not knowing what they are saying or knowing what they’re saying. They’re probably not talking about you. I’m not really good at lying to myself. I know I look like hell all the time but when people talk about the voice inside me reminds me that this wouldn’t happen in the world of death. Dying, I sit next to Gracious; she doesn’t notice the distressed look on my face. “Ay, Keeya we have Cainan cooking with us for Food-Tech.”

My insides tighten “Huh? Since when?”

“Remember how Mr Williams is mixing up our classes this week.”

Then I remember what she is on about. “Oh crap.”

“Yeah! I snuck a peek the list he had and it’s you, Cainan and I.”

I say nothing. I don’t think I can bare working with Cainan and his silence. Even though we talk occasionally I feel uncomfortable around him.

“Cainan is really quiet and hardly talks.” She comments

“Yeah.” I nod. It’s because he’s suicidal. He knows where peace lies in death. Some days, where I’m just totally egged off, I wish I could keep quiet like he does. There will always be people who will try and get me to talk or make me laugh without even noticing the mood I am in. It can be a good thing but it can also be a bad thing. There a days where I just don’t want to utter a word to anyone. I just want to sit there and feel my mind burst inside my head. Lunch speeds ahead with me contributing to useless conversations as always. Gossip is really interesting in our school but I feel saddened when I remember how things were different in year 7. Girls were innocent, boys were annoying. Drinking was unheard of and the word sex made us cringe but like they say, times change and so do people. I think back to before I was like this – broken and lost. I think I was in year 5 before things changed. My parents divorced when I was 11 and at that age I first started cutting my wrists. Only one person knows about this and it feels so terrible to say. Not even I like remembering this. I sigh again. Wow, I sigh quiet a lot.

 

Next is Food-Tech and I’m dreading it like hell. “Hey Cainan.” I smile and wave when I see him preparing our work station.

“Hey Keeya.” He quickly smiles then goes back to arranging the sweet peppers. My goodness, he is so cute. His cheek dimples make my eyes water. I wander off to get my apron and stand next to him.

“You got the chicken for our stir-fry?” I ask.

“Seasoned and marinated.” He picks up a container of raw chicken. “Here smell.” Cainan notices the look on my face and chuckles “Keeya, it is fine really smell it.”

I gulp and inhale the chicken. “Mmmmm,” I make sound in appreciation when the smell of spring onions and a Chinese spice hits my nose. “It smells divine.”

“Thanks.” He walks away towards the sink and I watch him pull down his sleeve. Oh my goodness. What I see makes my heart sink to the bottom on my stomach. Cainan, no…why? Slashes lay across his wrists and they still look fresh howling with blood. I shouldn’t be right, but I am. Cainan is like me. He’s insecure and he’s damaged. I see his head turning in my direction so as fast I can I down and make myself busy.

“Ho-sin sauce?” Gracious creeps up on me and enquires.

“Yes Gracious, I got the Ho-sin sauce. Come on, a chef never forgets his secret ingredient.” I wink and she throws a dirty look at me. Frown.

Cainan comes back quiet and head down. I want to jump on him and cradle him. Whisper in his ear and tell him I'm exactly like him. We're both messed up kids searching for the boat that left us. If only I had the courage to do this. I know it's hard to open something that's water tight but once it opens everything held floods out. Everyone thinks he's okay because his quietness is so usual and adds to the background noise. He looks up at me and flashes a quick smile while preparing the vegetables. This is what I'm like isn't it? This is how people see me. Keeya, just shut up. Cainan doesn't want your stupid sympathy. Just as I'm about to throw chicken pieces into a hot pan Cainan does something that I have no words for. He stands right behind me like less than 0.1cm behind me, "Let me put in the onions first" reaches over me and pours the onions into the pan. The wooden spoon is in my frozen grasp. Skin on the back of my had shudders when Cainan takes it and makes me stir. Cainan is real tall and I feel his eyes beating down on me. If I'm honest the heat radiating of his body feels nice.

I speak up "Erm Cainan..."

He drops the spoon and retreats back to his chopping bored after muttering sorry. My mind can't even process what just happened.

"Keeya, the chicken!" Gracious urges me to add the pieces as I'm in my frozen position. Breaking out of my day dream I add the raw meat and stir. Already it smells heavenly, and then I add the Ho-sin sauce and my ovaries explode. This chicken needs to hurry and cook so I can pig out on it.

Mr William clears his throat "Okay guys I'm just popping to the next room for some spare equipment. When I come back I don't want this kitchen up in flames you got that?"

We all laugh, "Sir I think we'll be fine." I answer.

"Good," he grins "I'll only be 60 seconds." Then speeds off out of the room. Chatter breaks out but I'm quiet and watch my surroundings. There's Melina. I spot her flaunting herself to some boys. She sees me and waves beaming "Hey Keeya."

I smile "Hi Melina."

The room falls silent and she seizes her opportunity. "Why do you have dents in your face?"

Laughter erupts and the Lava burns me. My voice is hard and irritated "They're chicken pox scars." She knows full and well they are scars, I've told her this before.

"They're scars?!" Her fake surprised face makes me chip a tooth in anger. She just wants to embarrass me, well done Melina because you've achieved it. I'm sick and tired of things like this. Oil from the pan spits and sets my face alight. Flames claw at my skin, ripping, tearing, and melting my muscles. Do I look better now Melina? The fire disappears from my face into my chest. I feel my insides flaming and being fuelled by organs. Even my 'friends' laughed. Alrighty then. "Do you not think I'm insecure about the way I look and you guys are laughing about it?"

Silence comes after my outburst. Oh nothing to say now? Right, feel bad.

"Yeeesh, chill Keeya! I'm sorry." She comes behind me and hugs me.

I ignore her.

"Keeya look at me?"

"Why, so you can laugh at me?"

"I'm sorry!"

I turn around and look at her.

"I really didn't know. Would you forgive me?"

Lying bitch.

I smile though "I forgive you Melina."

"Yay!" She jumps in the air before hugging me. "I love you really."

My lips form a weak smile "Yeah sure."

She leaves and I carry on with cooking. Urgh, I feel so damn crappy now. I look around and Cainan is giving me the cold shoulder. Oh how nice, asshole.

 

 

 

 

 

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