Tower and Town, November 2015 (view the full edition)UglyWith my head down, I stumbled through the grimy doors into what most people refer to as school. Like predators observing their prey before the kill, they looked at me. Not the kind of look that was friendly. Not the kind of look you would get if you were new. A kind of look that was just nasty. Shamefully, I walked down the school hall, my body drooping and looking like a rag doll. 'Watch where you're going, you retarded animal.' I didn't have to look up, I knew instantly who it was: my number one bully. Unfortunately, I knew her so well, although this was nothing to be proud of. Quickly, without a word I scuttled off, my head hanging low so no one could see my face. You are probably wondering right now why people treat me this way. I will tell you why. My face. My scarringly ugly face. So stretched, yet crinkled up at the same time. Just because I look this way, doesn't mean that I'm not a perfectly normal young girl who just wants friends to play and laugh around with. But the girls in my year obviously feel different about that. The bell! I mournfully slid into my seat as a teacher rambled on about whatever they need to in order to get a salary. I didn't hear any of it. I don't even try. All day, every day, this is my life: the same for days, weeks, months. On the 28th May I stumble once more into the place some people like to refer to as school. Another day to get through - that's all I can think of at this point. The same things happen. I receive those hateful looks, and I sit sorrowfully in class watching the clock ticking by. But as I take a minute to glance up to check how much longer I have to endure this hell, I catch eyes with a girl, a girl I've never seen before. She gives me the most heart-warming, beaming smile as she confidently strolls past me. Gradually, I lift my whole head up. A smile (even though you can't really tell) starts to form on my face. Anna Strover |