If I could fly
Chapter One: If I could fly..
Sometimes, I wish I could fly away—to a quiet little cottage where deer visit me while I bake, and a small garden waits for me to plant vegetables in my vintage summer dress. A scarf would be tied over my hair to shield me from the sun, and life would finally feel simple.
But instead, I’m stuck here.
Oh—right. I should introduce myself. I’m Arie. And this is my story. The truth about my life, and how sometimes I just want to disappear to die—not in the way that means ending everything, but in the way that means escaping, slipping away from all the noise and pain.
It really started in grade four. That’s when my skin condition, psoriasis, grew worse than it had ever been. I’d had it since I was five, but back then, I was just a kid. I didn’t care. By fourth grade, though, it spread behind both my ears. It was red, scaly, and impossible to ignore. And no matter how hard I tried to leave it alone, the urge to peel at it always came back. Every time, blood and pus greeted me.
Grade four was most trashiest year if you ask me I lost friends from petty things, and gain some.
I hated it. I hated how insecure it made me feel. It was hard maintaining my tough persona when someone asked, “What’s that behind your ear? Why does it look like that?” I pretended it was nothing. I’d laugh it off with excuses like, “Oh, my skin just gets super dry in summer,” or even, “I’m allergic to the sun and the weather.” Somehow, they believed me. But every word felt like a stone in my stomach.
I'm sure everyone's aware of Mister Quarantine, the world as a whole was in lock down and I was one of them, I remember I was chatting with this really close friend of my mine by the name Brianna on Instagram and being the elementary students we were we decided to virtually play every elementary student's favourite game which none other than 'Truth or Dare', it was my turn when she asked me, "What's your deepest secret you haven't told anyone?". I was hesitant but I trusted her! And she was my friend of four years, so being a dumb girl I was like why not? Let's tell her.
I began saying I had psoriasis and remember telling her twice ━ thrice that it was NOT contagious, I even mention saying I took medication and she literally looked it up on the Internet and send me the pictures can asked, 'This? You seriously have this?" And I replied, "Yes, but don't worry it's not contagious" And she said, "Of course yeah! And even if it is who cares? You're still my beloved friend." My heart warmed at that and for the rest of grade four we didn't talk, we didn't need to because I knew we would still be the same despite the distance.
It was next year on the month of March, we had to attend school again and reunited with my group of friends... despite being eleven of us there I still felt quite alone I mean I was the odd one out after all... Ugly hair, ugly face, ugly body, ugly stationaries just ugly ugly ugly!
Inside the classroom, everything felt wrong. Conversations that had always paused politely when I entered now stopped dead—followed by whispers. I reached for a seat, but the girl next to it slid her bag into the chair. I moved to another desk, but its owner shook her head sharply.
Everywhere I went, bodies shifted away. Eyes avoided mine. Some girls covered their mouths, others giggled behind their hands. The word followed me like a curse:
“Monster.”
“Disease.”
“Stay away.”
My throat tightened, but I spotted her—Brianna, my friend. Relief surged through me. I hurried over, my footsteps too loud in the silence.
“Brianna,” I breathed, grabbing her shoulders. My hands trembled. “Why are they saying this? Tell them it isn’t true—tell them!”
She froze. For one fleeting moment, I saw something in her eyes—fear, guilt, maybe even pity. But then, she didn’t speak.
The silence snapped something inside me. My hands tightened on her shoulders, my voice cracking with rage.
“You liar!” I shouted, my voice raw in the quiet classroom. “I trusted you! You were my friend—how could you do this to me?”
Before Brianna could respond, another girl a friend of hers shoved me hard, her eyes blazing.
“Don’t touch her! She'll get your disgusting disease.” she barked, as if I was contagious.
I stumbled back, my breath coming fast, my hands still reaching for Brianna. But she didn’t move toward me. She only looked away.
And in that moment, the noise of the classroom swelled again—laughter, whispers, my name twisted into venom.
Arie. Monster. Disease.
I stood there, burning with fury and betrayal, surrounded by the sound of them, and realized I had never felt so completely alone.
End of chapter One.
