alone..
It was Miss Laura's lesson again. I hate to see her. She has never started lessons without first asking me to clear my table. I was stacking cans. What's wrong with stacking cans? I like to arrange them in nice patterns. I tried a new formation today. It was pyramid shape. When i threw a pen on them they all tumbled down. And then I'd stack them up again. Then hit it. Then stack them up.
My mum gave me those cans long ago. I had them all arranged nicely in a row in my class. But each morning the guys would crush on or two of the cans before i came into class. They call me a retard. They shout and jeered at me. I am not spastic. They told me spastic means I'm abnormal and dumb. But I'm not. My mum never said I was. When i stepped into class today, the boys messed up my cans. One threw a can at me. It hurt, so deeply. I kept mum. I rearranged the cans in order again. I was so hurt; something was gnawing my heart so hard. I didn't want to cry; it would just make the whole world turn their eyes on me. I don't want anyone to notice me, to read my mind, to know I am so sad. Why can't they just leave me alone? Miss Laura shouted at me. She grabbed me by the hand, and I could not reach for the cans. I don't want to struggle, or to shout. I did not want to meet her eyes. I nailed my eyes to the ground. I could hear bursts of laughter and shouts. I gritted my teeth. I looked up only when i heard the clanking of cans down the bin.
Miss Laura threw my cans away.