Confessions of a Teenager

Beneath my placid exterior, was a mass of insecurities longing to break free and envelop me to my doom. Numerous disjointed conversations would lash out at me whenever I dragged myself along the hallway. Each conversation expressed hatred, insults, mockery or pity for me. Eyes full of disgust would dawn upon me as if I was the most despised creature.

I would smirk back, feeling a sense of pride the moment I was labeled as the insolent, trouble-maker who flunked her studies continuously. However, deep inside behind my expressionless face, I would long for them to realize the true reason that made me comparable to an easily despised person. A broken home, a father who returned home in a drunken stupor only to release his wrath on my timid mother, leaving her tearstained face covered with blood and scars of regret and misery. Numerous help centres failed to guide him away from his wrongdoings. Experience warned me to know better than trying to protect my mother.

My limbs were evidence of merciless torture in the form of burns and bruises that I covered with jackets and jeans. Only my neighbour, Miss Patty witnessed my mother’s agony through her frosted windows. To my astonishment, Miss Patty was my new form teacher. She applied to my school to ensure that my studies were not affected. Miss Patty would console me daily despite the cold stares I give her as a signal to leave me alone. Her café au lait skin and the nutmeg sprinkle of freckles on her nose was the only thing that kept me alive. My ego forbids me to have a nervous breakdown infront her. She refused to give up on me and waited in the thunderstorm just to tutor me. A myriad of emotions filled my mind as nobody had been concerned for me. My parents would not even realize if I went home in a wheelchair.

Weeks passed by, my mother nearly attempted to commit suicide as she was unable to withstand my father’s attitude. That tragic incident opened my heart to start anew and seek Miss Patty’s help. She taught me to be patient as turning over a new leaf takes time. After a cup of tea with Miss Patty, listening to her tips on improving my studies, out of the blue I received an urgent call from my other neighbour, John. He stammered surprisingly and the beat of his footsteps sounded like he was pacing up and down. After what seemed like an eternity, he blurted out a string of words that left me speechless. My father was fired from his job for outbursts of anger frequently. He lashed his anger at my mother till she died, unable to handle the pain.

Revenge was not an option as I bawled my head off uncontrollably. My window to a new life was shattered. I wiped my bloodshot eyes as the same café au lait skin that I cherished proceeded to wipe my tearstained face. Miss Patty gave me a consoling hug as I muttered words of hatred towards my father. The sentence he received was heavy but I felt he deserved more punishment for committing such a terrible sin. My father took one last look at me expecting some sympathy as his guilt-ridden face frowned. However, I could not bring myself to forgive him forever. Months passed by as my mother’s death served as a sign for me to pull up my socks and change for her sake.

My paint box red hair was dyed black, my studies soared high and I soon became a likeable person due to Miss Patty’s gestures and compliments to help me succeed. She gave me opportunities to get into better schools and soon I drifted apart from Miss Patty as I became more successful. However, every leap of faith I take in my life reminded me of my never-ending gratitude to her.