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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3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

"What's going on?" I look up at Reyanne. Half our school is gathered around the subway. Since when did everyone become so interested in a funky smelling underground walkway? I take in my surroundings properly. Two boys who look about 19 are holding cameras, and another boy is standing on the subway wall. What the fudge?

"Free Running." Reyanne answers.

"Is he mad?! That drop is massive! He isn't going to make it!" I walk with Elizabeth towards the bus stop. The boy gets down and walks backwards. The tall mixed race guy, is jumping up getting himself pumped. His black baggy t-shirt and grey jogging bottoms flap in the wind.

Elizabeth just shakes his head "If I witness death today!"

I laugh "He wants to die!"

"Trust me."

I'm so baffled at why people do this! Why do you need to risk their life for YouTube likes?!

I'm not going to lie, I'm intrigued and fascinated by this...sport? It is a sport isn't it? But it's dangerous! Rays of amber lightly hover over us, the sky is a tired blue but looks on amazed by what's about to happen. I'm full of disapproval, there's a 50/50 chance he could die or paralyse himself. A hush falls over the crowd. He's going to do it! He's actually going to up over that humongous gap. His legs start up and as he gets to the first wall, he stops. His heart drops as fear kicks in...

"Ooooooow!" We chorus. I can feel his emotions just by studying his face. Beads of sweat race down his forehead. He's lucky he is wearing a black tee otherwise we all would have been exposed to a pool stain underneath his arms.

 

"We're all making him nervous." A year 7 comments.

She's right but if you can't take the heat...yeah I figured you'd know the rest. Come on! You can do this. You're not jumping that big gap, you're jumping onto a boat. A boat that holds the key to your freedom and this boat will never come back to you. LOOL oh my gosh what's wrong with me? He can't even hear my excellent pep talk! Legs restart and he's off. Speed intensifies and arms launch him off the wall into mid-air. I always thought people exaggerated when they say 'time froze', but they don't. Someone had picked up a remote and paused us but then changed their mind and put us in slow motion instead. The boy's hands are outstretched ready to grab onto the next wall. Will his chains restricting him break? What if they don't? They will pull him back and let him plummet onto the cold concrete floor, leaving him screaming in pain feeling bones saying hello to their new places. With more force he grabs onto the next wall and launches himself over it. I let out my breath. Screams of approval and amazement cut the surprised air. He did it. He actually did it.

 

I show my appreciation with some noise too. "Oh my God, Elizabeth! I swear I thought he was going to drop!" "Me too! It looked like he wasn't going to make it!" Her face looks so struck I couldn't help but laugh.

Lia runs over to us at the bus stop "Did you guys see that?!"

"YES!"

"My heart nearly exploded because of that!"

I chuckle "Aww!" Our bus is pulled up at the stop and with the doors open as the bus driver looks on at the scene bewildered. Ha, missed it! You we're probably too busy telling off a 11 year old for not having an oyster. Bus drivers, not my cup of tea. Too many bad experiences over stupid little things. Some of them are so bloomin' rude! Just because you have a glass window protecting your face doesn't mean your untouchable. "Guys, come on." I drag them both by the arms. Stepping onto the bus, I catch Cainan's figure from the corner of my eye. He's seen me, I know he has. I scan my oyster and wedge myself in a bearable spot. He's at the back though pretending the world doesn't exist. I engage in more useless gossip then bid my friends farewell as I get down at my stop. The bus speeds down the road distributing a fair amount of CO'2. The heavy petrol smell lodges itself inside my throat and air right now seems alien to me. Cough. Cough. Cough. I wonder how much time we have left on this planet.

 

Stuffing my keys into the hole I fling open the door because I know nobody is home. I love coming home to no one. No big brother annoying me! No little sister annoying me and no little brother annoying me! Most importantly no mother stepping on my back with her block heels. As I slink into my room, I turn on the radio. I put in The Weeknd's album Trilogy and undress myself. By the time Wicked Games is at its chorus I'm dancing in my room arms up high. My skin opens up and allows the music to swirl and travel into it. I absorb Abel's melodic notes and my heart feels so lifted.

 

' Bring your love baby I could bring my shame,

Bring the drugs baby I could bring my pain

I got my heart right here

I got my scars right here

Bring the cups baby I could bring the drink

Bring your body baby I could bring you fame…'

 

The song stops. I'm in front of the mirror with my eyes open. My high is now gone. I look at a black gooey slimy monster with startling red eyes. It flaps its flabby arms and jiggles its fat thighs. Its belly forever looks 2 months pregnant and doesn't ever shrink. The thing stares back at and mimics my every move. That… thing, is me. I'm a fat ugly freak. My face makes me was to tear it off with my own hands. No one will love a terrible creature like me. My arms are covered in scars but I can't bring myself to look at them. I would be better off dead. None of these feelings will be able to eat at me that up way. It's hard but I turn my gaze away from that unpleasantness.

 

THUD. I open my bedroom door and peer out "Darell is that you?!"

"Yeah!" He answers. I dress myself faster than the speed of light. Long sleeves of course. Then lean on my door frame and watch Darell walk to his room. Darell is another tall male in my life and an annoying older brother. He's dark like me but his colour is even all over his body, and thinks he looks so retro with his 'Fresh Prince Of Bel Air' haircut. No. He thrusts a box of bbq wings and chips in my hands. "You're welcome."

"Ayy, you're way too fast but thanks." This is one of the rare nice gestures my brother makes. I'm kind of suspicious but food always puts a smile on my face. I open up the box and my chips are swimming in burger sauce. Oh yes. Just the way I like it. The sweet smell strokes my cheeks softly, tempting me even more. I start off politely with one chip and in less than a minute I look like a pigeon fighting over crumbs even though I have no one to share this with. A burp escapes my mouth. I stare down at the stained cardboard. The chicken bones are stripped and broken. What have I done? The taste of Smokey sticky coating lingers in my mouth, oh God I'm a monster! All of a sudden I become aware of the fat I've just consumed. It's swimming inside me and inflating my stomach. Keeya, listen to me. You are overweight. You know what happens fat people right? They become unhealthy and die. You don't want that now do you? How about we get rid of the food inside you? My body becomes magnetised and it's being dragged towards its core. I'm thrown over the toilet. Its mouth is wide ready for my regurgitated food. I wretch and contract my stomach muscles. Nothing. I try harder, thankfully Darell's music is drowning out the horrible noises I'm making. It seems as if my food is clinging onto my stomach with all of its life. Come out of me, please? Why don't you think about something that revolts you? I think about seeing a hair in my food. Usually as soon as that image is in my head my food jumps out from inside me but not today. Urgh, Keeya you futile creature, you can't do anything right. I drag my feet across the smooth cold wooden floor, carpet warms my frozen toes. I wish I was a puker. It's not easy removing food from my stomach, I fail most times. I try but they make it seem so easy, if only I could do that. Maybe if I was skinny I could discipline myself into being controlled around food. I wouldn't charge towards the first sight of food, instead I'll stay well away from it, avoiding its evil like the plague. If only I stop finding comfort in food. My head looks up from the plain in sink and into the mirror. My cheeks look like they are competing in a 'who's the biggest?' competition. I'm pale and lifeless; my eyes are dark and tired. Man my beauty is everlasting isn't it? My fingers find their way to the mirror. They trace the outline of my features on the delicate glass. Cloud on the mirror spells 'UGLY' then laughs hysterically. I run to my room and close the door behind me. My feet are breathless and panting in sync with my chest. Jesus, I need to start acting like a normal person. Sleep you're just tired. So I climb into my fluffy bed. It swallows me and the thick duvet wraps itself around me. Sleep dances and twirls, jumping doing the splits in mid-air.

 

 

*

 

A cold draft whips my body as my eyes flutter open. Mum is standing over me holding my quilt hostage. Her eyes are deranged and her mouth is twisted as if she's about to hit me. "Why aren't the dishes washed?"

"Hmmm?" My sight becomes blurry and I'm shutting down.

"KEEYA! I'm talking to you!"

A thousand shocks are sent to my thigh and this causes my eyes to burst open. She repeats herself louder.

"I'm sorry, I forgot."

"Don't tell me you forgot!"

I frown and scrunch up my face "What am I supposed to say?! I did forget, I was just tired-"

I'm interrupted "Shut up and wash the dishes." Her hard hands drag me up out of bed like I'm a ragdoll.

She has a gun and pokes it into my back. Abuse is being shouted at me while all I can do is feel like an inferior minor. Authority is given to the people who can't handle it or exploit it in most cases. I turn on the light in the kitchen; Mount Kilimanjaro relaxes in the sink. It's not fair! I didn't even eat from a plate today.

"Look at what you've left inside the sink! For who to come and wash it? Me? You must be mad." My mum hisses darkly at me. I catch the bullet and flick it to the ground. If I reply to her, I'll only get angry. Just ignore it. "You don't have any respect, you!" I didn’t mean it gosh. She is always going on and on. Every day she acts like she's the victim and I'm the big bad bully reigning over her. Nothing I ever do will be right in her eyes. I can’t wait to leave this prison at 18. The only crime I’ve committed is being born. I know this sounds wrong but if I had a choice I would have aborted myself in the womb. With the way my thoughts are I’m probably on a straight route to hell. A burning pit of fire containing burning souls doesn’t seem different to the life I’m living now.

I place the last wet plate on the drying rack. Looking at my fingers I cringe. I like raisins but geez this is a bit overdone. A deep sigh leaves me. Goodness I’m exhausted, Tumblr here I come. I get a dry cloth, wipe down the wet surface then practically dash it in a random corner before speeding upstairs into my room. I slowly ease the door shut. Don’t want mum giving me another task to do. My laptop whooshes as it starts up. Urgh, my desk is in such a horrendous state. I grab all the loose papers, hastily stuff them in an over-flowing drawer and slide into the leather computer chair. I guess I’m quite lucky having a laptop and a television in my room. A lot of people have on or the either.  The room’s walls stare at me. Where would be a good place to commit suicide in here? I think the golden walls hear me because I start to feel heavy. Even the black feature wall plastered with posters of The Weeknd, Drake, Lana Del Rey, Marina and The Diamonds and other various things that appeal to me seems quite uncomfortable with my thoughts. Imagine my lifeless body dangling in the air, turning the room temperature to -5 degrees. Veins strain but are still and the life inside me isn’t there anymore.  “Keeya, Keeya! Come quick!” his footsteps slow down until they freeze. Benjamin, my little brother, wishes his eyes have been gauged out because his happy big sister isn’t happy anymore. He doesn’t understand what it’s been done. All he understands is that I am no more. His knees forget their purpose and Benjamin collapses to ground with such force, not even Mr snuggles can comfort him anymore. I wish my mother would have a similar reaction to that but I know she wouldn’t she’d probably just call the police and go on like it never happened. She wouldn’t care if I killed myself. A lot of people probably wouldn’t notice if I’m honest. I’m doing it again. I’m putting myself in a bad mood.

 

CAINAN REBLOGGED JAMIES-CONFESSIONS:

‘I hate when people make jokes about self-harm, depression and anxiety.’

I reblog his text post. I’ve had to go through those jokes myself quite a few times. It’s destroying honestly. Scroll, reblog, scroll, scroll, like, reblog, reblog, like, reblog, scroll. Hold on. Why did Cainan reblog that in the first palce? I realise. This is proof. He is like me. See I'm not alone at all. Before I know it I'm on his blog then on his ask box.

 

'Do you self-harm?'

 

I tick the anonymous box then exit the page. Doubt, regret and anxiety wash over me. What if he knows it's me? Did I leave any clues? When will he answer the damn message? Oh God why did I ask that question. Shit, fuck, fuck. Why did I ask that? It's not even my business. My guilty conscious pinched me all of my body, fresh sore marks are marked on my skin now. I need to forget about this so I reblog more pictures until I feel lifted.

"KEEYA?! ARE YOU DOING YOUR WORK?"

"Yes mum!"

Maybe I can start my work tomorrow? Yeah tomorrow sounds good. There's something else that pleasures my ears too -sleep.

*

Stares rip me open. What a big head she has. Wow, did she get enough sleep yesterday? Ceiling, would you do me a favour and crush my bones? Because I am getting no enjoyment from living. My heavy limbs are limp, weekly opening my locker. A small note drifts falls out and drifts to the ground. I've never gotten a nots before? What! Like a sink the heat from my face drains, my stomach tightens with my chest and a gentle reminder tells me what an idiot I am.

 

'No, Why? - Cainan'

 

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