Blurred Souls

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Chapter 3

Ever felt like you’re worth nothing?

Ever felt like you’re worth nothing? Ever felt like you’re drowning in insecurities and self-doubts? Ever felt like your dreams are crushed by the doubts? Ever felt damaged? Ever like crying yourself to sleep every night?

Another sleepless night. I could feel the voices start again as I opened my eyes rather slowly. The voices in my head won’t stop, they’re only getting louder. Louder and louder. The voices won’t stop. I tried to shut my eyes, but the voices keep getting louder and louder.

I was currently staring at myself into the mirror, in my pyjama, missing her more than ever. Loneliness filled into me as a sob of sorrows and sadness threatened to escape

“Mummy, where are you going?.” The little girl asked her mum, her eyes watering.

“I can’t take you there with me, princess. Stay with daddy, promise?”

The little girl nodded. Her mum smiled and kissed her cheek. Her mother’s heart broke at the thought of leaving her little daughter to go to the doctor. Today she was going to either go home crying from happiness or sadness. But deeply she knew it was the latter if the blood she keeps on spitting weren’t enough proof then her the swelling in her breast seemed to grow everyday.

"I love you baby girl.” The mother muttered, grabbing her child’s little hand which was very tiny compared to hers. “If I ever leave this world, know that I love you so much and I will always be your guardian up there.”

“I love you too, mum.” I whispered. My mind was completly blank, I still wasn’t over her death, and I don’t think I could ever be. A mother is like your second half, impossible to forget.

A tear fell followed by another, I looked down at my love-shaped necklace. Holding it tightly with my shaky hand and tracing it with my fingers.

“Princess, come here,” the little girl came closer, “take this, and I want you to promise you’ll keep it yeah?”

“Pwomise, mummy.”

"I love you so much baby girl, so much.”

All these feelings need to be felt. We need to stomp and storm; to sob and cry; to perspire and tremble.*

And that’s what I did; I cried silently.

The worst type of crying is the silent one, the one where everyone is asleep. The one where you feel it in your throat and your eyes become blurry from the tears. And worst of all the one you know you’re alone.

I took a set of deep breaths and let them out slowly. I walked to the bathroom to wash my face, and splashed cold water onto my face, throwing me out of the way of the lugubrious thoughts.

I dared to look at myself into the mirror, my eyes were red and puffy, my hair was a mess. I brushed my teeth, and went back to bed, hugging my teddy bear.


THE NEXT DAY,

After waking up, I had a quick shower, and rushed towards my closet, wore a long-sleeve blouse with a pair of ripped jeans. My hair tied up in a ponytail.

“Where have you been?!” The monster questioned in anger, daring me to answer back with any sassy reply. I was used to this, to the hate and glares, surrounding me whenever I went.

“I’m was busy snoring. Did I miss anything?” I replied, giving him my best ingenious smile.

“I’ve been waiting for five minutes.” He added the so important fact, attempting to sound like an angry old man but failed miserably. Bitch when?

“And?”

“I need breakfast now. Fucking bitch.”

“Do I look like a maid? Don’t answer that, I know I do.”

I should really take lessons in keeping myself quiet and shutting my mouth in any unnecessary drama.

After making breakfast for the old man, the school bus arrived. It takes fourteen minutes to arrive at school. I immediately placed two fingers on my nose to prevent the ugly smell of eggs, morning breath and people who don’t shower. Fucking gross.


“Hey, ugly,” were the first two words I was welcomed to. It was normal. But it still hurts me.

I just rolled my eyes.

“Cat got your tongue?” The same jerk said. His yellow-ish teeth showing, probably caused by the number of cigarettes he smokes.

“Your breath stinks. Do you even brush your teeth?” I replied back, my steps were slow as I tried to remember my first class.

“Your hands can’t get even carry a watermelon.” He retorted.

Laughing at his stupid comeback, I shrugged,“Did you stay the night searching for the worse insult of the year? If so then I can happily say it was the shittiest insult I’ve heard of and that speaks volumes*.”

With that, I walked to my first class.


“Goodmorning kids.” My favourite teacher greeted, her hair styled in a bun.

No, I’m not being sarcastic.

“Goodmorning, Ms.Sunshine.”

“How’s your day going?” She coughed awkwardly, “Yeah, it’s still the first period, anyway let’s start with the lesson we took yesterday, alright?”

“I have a question.” Never in a million years would I grow to listen to this voice without the urge to spit on him.

“Yes, Blake?”

“Why are we talking this shit if they’re dead?”

OK! I might not like History, but this was incredibly rude to the dead who fought for their land and their rights.

“Please, Blake, no swearing in my class.”

“We can swear in other classes?” He rose an eyebrow and gave her a wink. Ew.

“Don’t put things in my mouth, Blake.” Ms.Sunshine replied.

The things I love about this teacher is that she rarely yells, she speaks with us as if speaking to her own grandchildren, repeats everything twice to make sure we understand, never gives detention unless you drove her to the extreme.

She’s the only teacher in this whole school who I love.

“Oops, my bad. I’m sorry, continue please.” Alex laughed, along with his fangirls, they were giggling, like some young girls, and it sounded annoying especially coming from “grown-up” girls. I think they only bring that act up when he’s around other than that he’s the gossip of the ladies bathroom usually it included a lot of words along ‘arsehole’ ‘pighead’ and ‘bullheaded’.

“As I was saying ...”

We started talking notes down, and there’s one of the many things I love about this teacher is that her tests were very easy and weren’t from the moon.

Imagine after thirty years, I’ll get my own history chapter, and let them suffer studying about me. Ha.

‘Angel Simths was one of the most gorgeous people alive’

Skipping to lunch, I sat on my usual seat, took out my iPod and played ‘Broken Angel’. Oh the irony, I thought as I began eating the Nutella that I had made earlier. The chocolate rolled over my tongue and I think this might top anything that I’ve ever tasted.

That was my favourite part of the day. That moment--- sitting alone with earphones on and a book in my hand is all I ever have to make my day better.

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