I was only seven, when someone called me a cow the first time, because of my not regular pigmented skin I had because of a skin disease. Mean kids of my age always pointed at me and imitated the sounds of a cow when I walked by. By the time I was ten, I was able to cover all my lighter pigmented skin with make up my mother gave to me. My mother was kind of a star lawyer and couldnt use to be seen with a kid looking like me. She always was embarrassed when someone saw me as I were a little child and couldnt cover my oddity. She told me to cover everything up, because it was unlikely to look like me. At the age of twelve, I never left the house without covered skin and carrying a bag of make up to fix it anytime it would be needed. When my friends I made at my new school asked me to go swimming with them, I never agreed. At this time, I was so afraid of being bullied again, like I was in primary school, that I didnt tell them that I had this skin disease. After some time, my class mentioned that I never did anything where I got in touch with water. I even skipped swim lessons we did in P.E. So, they began to make a fun out of getting me in situations where I couldnt prevent getting in touch with water. Stumbling near me with an open bottle was one of the most used tricks and soon I covered myself as soon as I saw an open bottle anywhere near. One hot summer day, when we just had finished the last school lesson for day, my worst expectations came to reality. When I walked out of the school building someone emptied a whole water bottle above my head. I stood there in shook and couldnt believe what actually happened. I felt the make up running down my face and how they all stared at me. Their intense stares burnt like fire on my skin. I couldnt move and I felt the tears rise up to my eyes. I heard them whispering and pointing at my face and in my head their voices added up to a loud choir, telling me I was ugly. Quickly I turned around and ran away as fast as I could. I locked myself in the toilet and vigorously wiped off my smeared makeup. With practiced movements, I applied a new layer, as if it could undo the whole thing. But it was too late. They all had seen who I really was. And I didnt know if it was them or me who hated most, what was under my skin.

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Lesenacht (5/5)

Und zu guter Letzt noch ein Text aus dem Englischunterricht. Ich hoffe euch hat die Lesenacht gefallen <3