Lydia

"Something's wrong. Something's very wrong," I whispered to myself. I can feel it. Something bad is going to happen. I can feel it. 

My name is Lydia Parker. I am what high school students consider today as a "social outcast". I have no friends and I am...different. 

You're probably thinking, "Yeah, we're all different". Am I right? Well, even if I am not, I just want you all to know that I am different in a way that is not normal. I get hurt when I'm not doing anything. At. All.

For example, when I was in second grade, I had the same feeling, I am having right now. I was sitting is Ms. Parker's classroom. Yes, I am related to her. Anyway, I was sitting in her class, listening to her explain the rule for subtracting and borrowing, when out of nowhere, I felt a sharp pain in my arm. 

I hadn't been doing anything in the class except sitting at my desk, listening to her teach. The pain suddenly got worse. It had felt like someone was twisting my arm behind my back and no matter how much you begged them to stop, they wouldn't. Yeah, that was exactly what my arm felt like. 

My screaming, got the attention of Ms. Parker. "Lydia, honey. What's wrong? What is it?" This was the about the time that I realized that I was screaming and everyone in the classroom was staring at me. Twenty-one pairs of eyes, including the teacher and Mrs. Sharp looked my way, wondering what was wrong with me. 

The pain, being so bad, prevented me from answering her. Instead of replying to her, I clamped my mouth tight and shook my head. I was not going to scream again. I couldn't answer her, no matter how many times she asked. It was like trying to breathe underwater. It simply isn't done. The tears, clouded my vision as she stooped down to my level. I could barely see her, and I was scared. 

I honestly did not know what was wrong and what was causing this pain.

Ms. Parker excused everyone in the room to recess. She told Mrs. Sharp to watch the children while she tried to calm me down. After everyone left the room, the pain subsided a bit and I told her my arm was was killing me. We looked at my arm and found a huge purple bruise forming. She got the nurse and the nurse inspected my arm. She told me that I needed to see a doctors. 

Ms. Parker drove me to the doctors, all the while whispering in French, "Je suis là mon enfant, vous n'êtes pas seul. Je vais vous aider à passer à travers cela, je promets." While I did not know what this meant at the time, it was beautiful. Later, I found out it meant, "I'm right here my child, you are not alone. I'll help you get through this, I promise."

Once we reached the doctors, a doctor took an X-Ray of my arm. He later confirmed that I had a broken arm. When he asked how it happened, Ms. Parker told him I was sitting at my desk, in class, and started screaming. He obviously didn't believe her, but he didn't say anything about it. I got a cast on my arm and was told not to do any kinds of sports for a while.

Later that day, when I got home, I decided that somewhere in a parallel world, there was a girl who was exactly like me (same name and everything) that did something to cause her to break her arm, and I suffered the consequence. It made me feel a bit better believing that I wasn't the only one in the universe that had this problem. I even started talking to myself, thinking this other version of me could hear me. 

Over the years things started to get worse. I started to get more serious injuries, and the worst part of it all? It all seemed to happen when I'm in school, where everyone can see how different I am. Thus, labeling me the outcast of the school. After a while, you get used to it.  After six years of having absolutely no friends, a person learns that the only friend they need is loneliness. I know. That's so sad but it was just the way things were. And the best part of it all? I actually like being alone. It made me stronger. "Silence is golden" is what I always say...

"Lydia. Lydia Parker! Ms. Parker are you even listening to me?!" Mrs. Marshall yelled in her fake British accent. 

I snapped my head in her direction. I was honestly unsure how long she has been saying my name. "Yes, Mrs. Marshall?" 

"It's so nice of you to join us. We're currently  on number three on the handout I gave you. I asked what did you get for the square root of three hundred and thirty-six." She picked up a pink slip and looked at me. I guess she was hoping I would get the answer wrong so she could give me ISAP.  It's kind of like an in school detention only it lasted for however long the teacher wished. 

"Four square root of twenty-one," I replied quickly. I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of putting me in ISAP. Plus, I couldn't help it if I was good at math and Mrs. Marshall knew that. The 

She shot me an icy glare. "Hmm. That is correct but if you leave this class to go to 'Lydia Land' one more time, I'll be using this here pink slip." She held up the slip so I knew it wasn't a bluff.  "The next time I call your name and you don't answer right away-"

I screamed. Grabbing my side I looked down at my side to inspect it. My brand-new mint green shirt, covered in blood. 

"Ms. Parker!" Mrs. Marshall yelled. "That's it! I'm done with your little outburst! I expect to not see you in class tomorrow." She filled out a pink slip and handed it to a girl named Alyssa Kingston. "Take this to the office. Ms. Kingston."

 "Gladly, Mrs. Marshall." Alyssa took the pink slip, smiling. As she walked pass me she whispered, "You'll do anything for attention won't you, Parker?" Then, she sashayed away, putting on a show for anyone who wanted a grand finale of the "Great Alyssa". Everyone's head, but me, turned to watch her leave. 

I forgot for half a millisecond about my wound. Then, as my thoughts came back to me I looked at my side. The pain became unbearable. I could barely raise my hand. 

Mrs. Marshall looked annoyed, "What do you want, Ms. Parker?" 

"Can I...may I...will you excuse me from class please?" I don't even know why I asked. Of course, I could be excused from class. I have a note in the office, from my mom and the doctor who treated me in second grade, saying I could be excused from class if I see necessary, but I can only ask once a class. 

Growling, Mrs. Marshall narrowed her eyes. "Go ahead, Ms. Parker. Be my guest. While you're at it, you can go to the office. I will be calling your Claire to tell her how disruptive you have been in class." Her stupid British voice, as annoying as it was, told me that she was going to make sure that my mother knew every little detail of my little scheme. 

"Now class," she clapped her hands. "Get out your notebooks and turn to a new page." The too perky accent indicated that there were to be no more distractions or interruptions.

I grabbed my stuff, careful to hide the growing blood stain on my shirt, and ran outside to call my Claire. She didn't pick up until the fifth ring. 

"Hello. Lydia...Lydia...are you there? What's wrong?" She knew that I only called her when I was having another one of my...episodes. They happened more times than I care to comment. 

"Claire?" I weakly gasped. I was so weak I could barely stand up. I was.. so very dizzy. 

"Hey. What's wrong Lydia?" Claire asked. I could hear her, in the background, grabbing her keys. She was getting ready to take off to the school. I was to only call her on my cell phone if I have an episode and this definitely was one. 

"Claire," I quickly, dropped my things because I could barely stand up, let alone hold a binder, my math, psychology, and biology books all at the same time. I clutched my side, with my now empty hand, to stop the blood flow. Like it would make any difference. 

I was losing my vision and I could barely breathe. Short breaths, Lydia. Short breaths. "I need...um...you need to come and get..." My right leg gave out for a second. I gasped as I stood back up. "Um...please come and get me...something has..." Then, finally giving up the battle against my body, I lost my balance and my strength. I dropped my phone and fell to the ground. 

The last thing I saw was Alyssa with her phone pointed toward me, smiling and mouthing something like, "Smile for the camera", and a teacher I've never seen, before, walking toward me. 

Then everything went dark...

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(1570 words)

                  
11.16.17

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