Chapter FIVE

“Group Work Friday (Kill Me)”

So this morning, it was a new teacher—just for Friday’s lesson.

He doesn’t know me or how “weird” I am. The other teacher probably warned him, but I guess he was expecting a girl and didn’t even notice the boy beisde him  might be one.

I walk into the class that morning and notice the teacher is shaped a little different.

I have congenital rod dystrophy. That means my vision is messed up—I can still see, just not well. So I squint my eyes, lean my head forward, and walk toward the teacher to see if I know him. My seat’s right beside his. Once I’m about a meter away, I see his face.

Nope. I don’t know him.

I just nod. He stutters a “Mo-morning,” and I sit down.

The whole class is staring at me. They know I don’t react well to strangers, and from the outside, it probably looked like I was eyeing a new target like a predator.

I sit down and chill. Pull out my iPad and start drawing.

The class is quiet—just the sound of my Apple Pencil aggressively tapping against the screen.

God, I hate it here.

Some boys complain about the sound but shut up as soon as they realize it’s me.

Smart move.

Then peace gets destroyed. Marcus enters.

Marcus is autistic. His mom saw me once at a meet-the-parents event—alone, just thinking about life with a plate of curry baby corn. And I guess she decided I’m a “good influence” on her son?

So the next day, Marcus sits beside me, in the island that used to be all mine.

I feel bad for him, so I don’t say anything. But honestly, I’m scared.

He’s three times my size. A big boy.

I act like I don’t care, like I don’t even notice him, but he’s always invading my personal space.

And same for today.

I was devastated when I saw him walking into the class. I started banging my head on the table. The whole class saw it.

Not Marcus, though. His brain blocks that stuff out.

He sits beside me.

I’m lost for words.

I die inside and just look up at the moldy light bulbs above me.

Then the teacher says we’re doing a group project. “Get into groups of 3 to 5.”

Oh, FUCK ME.

Under my breath, I whisper, “Nope. Not me.”

Marcus hears it. He says, “We can be a group!”

No. I don’t want to.not with you.

Everyone is a liability to me. Anyone I don’t personally approve of is just extra weight.

Nothing against Marcus personally, but his ability lacks.

I tell him, “How about you join the boys you used to sit with? I’m not a good person. I’m not good to work with.”

He gets up and walks over to them.

They clearly see him coming. They panic.

I might have poor vision, but I’m not blind. They don’t want him either.

Marcus comes back and says, “They’re full.”

“LIKE HELL YOU ARE!” I yell and fall at them.

Not really standing up for Marcus—but more because I didn’t manage to get rid of him.

I feel horrible for him though.

But welcome to the world. Incapable people get thrown out—me and him both.

And I’d rather not be stuck with each other.

The teacher acknowledges it and tells me and Marcus to team up and wait for one more person to join.

How funny.

Now we’ve got a highly narcissistic, transgender, passive-aggressive kid with anger issues (me), and a big, quiet boy who’s straight-up blur (Marcus).

“No one in their right mind would join us,” I mutter.

“Don’t be so down. Be confident,” the teacher says.

Sir,you put me in this position.

“I am confident. In myself, and myself only,” I reply.

During the wait for this imaginary person to join us, one of the mean girls asks if I want to join her group.

But as soon as I say I’m kinda with Marcus, she bails.

I know they only want me for my skills—so I can do all the work while they hang out and have fun.

I’d rather go with her than stay here, but too late.

She’s gone.

That’s when I see Marcus looking a little down.

I thought he’d be used to being rejected by now. But I guess not.

So I tell him, “Come on, buddy. I ain’t going anywhere.”

And then—a twist.

A girl shows up. “Are you in a group?” she asks.

I immediately say, “No, I’m not! Take me!”

Like an asshole.

I turn to Marcus. “Yo, sorry bro, I gotta leave. Is that okay with you?”

He doesn’t react.

I start feeling relief—until the girl says, “Yay! That means I can stay with you guys!”

Wait… WHAT?

She’s not taking me away—she’s joining us.

Oh my god. I just lost all my credit with Marcus and made a dumbass of myself.

But nah. I don’t care. Marcus doesn’t care. The girl doesn’t care.

The teacher gives me that look—“See? Told you.”

So I mock myself with a stupid joke.

I ask the girl, “What’s your name?”

“Farah,” she says.

“Awesome! Farah, are you in the right mind?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Great. Or possibly concerning. But thanks anyway.”

I give the teacher a look. “See?”

And yeah. Marcus, like I imagined, didn’t do anything.

Farah was totally lost.

So I did everything.

Every kid for themselves, I guess.

I might sound horrible and selfish sometimes.

But I am mostly right.

Chapter Gap

“My head hurts.”

I wake up with a concussion.

Almost eat the floor when I stand.

My right leg’s tight. I’m limping. Everything just hurts, all at once.

I call my psychiatrist,not an actual doctor because I don’t believe my pains are real,I am making myself feel stuff ,I supposed.

Turns out it’s just depression. Again.

Apparently, smashing my own head during a nightmare is the new thing. Not that I can tell what’s a nightmare and what’s real anymore. It’s all the same.

“You really need to try to get better. Your body’s already been stunned for years, now this. Please consider the meds, talk to your parents—”

Yeah. Sure. Talk.

Like that fixes anything.

I’m stuck in this body.

Feminine. Prepubescent. Fourteen.

Every time I see my reflection, it’s like being punched in the gut.

A reminder.

Of what it did to me.

Of what I’ve become.

Of what’s still inside me, gnawing at my ribs, eating me alive.

One night, I puked when I saw it — my sanity, spilled out all over my bedroom floor.

It was glowing.

Beautiful blue .

I reached for it.

It danced away from me like fireflies.

Fading, flickering, gone.

My growth plates are closing.

And I didn’t even grow.

How old am I supposed to be now?

What am I supposed to be?

And why the hell am I collecting new illnesses like they’re Pokémon cards?