Not a fanfiction
contains everything that I usually write about
no famous people
My legs shook and I looked down at my hands. I tried to make myself invisible, like I always did when I didn't want to be seen. I knew how to make himself gray and small. It was easy. It was just to breathe calmly and not meet anyone's eyes. I was used. This was my way to make it through life, and it had become a way of life. It wasn't for nothing that I was called "rat", "dry ball" or something else suitable. I had many nicknames, both from students but even from teachers. Okay maybe the teachers didn't called me nasty things, but I had been told that I'm sluggish, lacking the ability to learn and I should give up. When you hear those words many times you become accustomed and eventually you will believe in them. They become like your life and you live with the words. I knew that I was worthless, but I didn't like that all the other all the time had to say it to me. I knew I was ugly and I knew there was no place for me in the community. Nevertheless, I remained. I don't know why. Maybe I didn't felt like doing that with suicide? Or I wanted to show them that I survived another year. It had turned sixteen years by now. I was sixteen years old and I was still the world's worst student. There was no doubt about that.
I look up and I see the principal's cold gaze. She sighs a little bit and show me to go into her office.
"Please Sara Anderson," she mumbles, as if she's trying to remember my name. I move me up and I sneak into her room. I sit on the chair and I collapse. I hate it when you're only two in a room, because she sees me. She closes the door and then she sits down behind the desk. She looks sad and it's as if she cares.
"I've talked to your teachers." she says, as if I hadn't already understand that. "And all agree that you have big problems."
It's quiet and I can hear my own breath. She sighs again and this time she takes up a folder, a folder with all my paper.
"I will write to the school administration for help and I think we should solve this as soon as possible."
I look up. She smiles weakly and it's like she wants me to talk, but I make fists with my lips.
"Your mother seems to like the idea." she says, as if my mom really cares? I know what mom are thinking about me. "We will solve this."
I look down at my hands again. I draw lightly in the arm of my jacket, just to do something. I hear the headmaster mean well, but I can't bother.
"Imagine that you have been able to go throughout school without help?"
I shrugged. I don't care. There's no point. She leans forward and she looks closely at me.
"You know what it's called?"
I shake my head and she smiles faintly.
"It's called dyslexia!" she says. "That's what makes it so hard that you can't get the letters and that's why you don't understand."
Okay! Now she caught my attention. I knew she was a new principal at the school and we had only had her for six months. Yet she was able to put words on something that I didn't know about.
"What's dyslexia?" I whispered questioningly. She smiles and she seems happy that I participate in the conversation.
"That means you don't read letters like everyone else. You mix them together and you get no track of them. You can't do a simple text, but you are capable of so much more. You have good grades in the sport and all academic subjects are you good at, until you have to write."
I agree. How could she know?
"Can you cure it?"
She laughs a little bit and she shakes her head slightly.
"No, but you can get help from specialist teachers and that's what I want here. A teacher who helps you. I can't guarantee that you learn to read like your mates, but I can guarantee that he or she will help you as much as he or she possibly can."