Who would have thought that the lonely ones were the ones that smiled the most? The world certainly does carry things that ‘socially’ make them happy. Does food satisfy our souls? Does having a mansion worth billions really satisfy the missing piece within my heart?
Having to choose within a billion things around the galaxy, I would choose a notebook. The two things that carry out my inner thoughts, laughter, cries and most importantly my sorrow. I was a child who tried her best to achieve her dreams even when there was no food in the house, I would go to school on an empty stomach, hoping to get food at school, but sadly got nothing.
We live in a society where we constantly blame ourselves for things. I still blame myself for being molested by a person I considered a friend and family. I trusted too much that I failed to realise that fantasy is surreal.
Everyday I look at everyone in my class, their smiles, laughter and stories they would share about their parents. While I sit there in the corner, thinking about how much I wish to tell them about things that excite me most because they never understand.
I have seen better days and have seen the worst of days, but life without the notebook is meaningless to me. I shall forever cherish that notebook because it’s what means the world to me.
I still remember the day that I was molested like it all happened two seconds ago. The reason why it’s called a memory is because it is a memory not worth forgetting. Blood spread from my vagina to my legs. No words can describe the pain I felt. I mean, no one was there for me. I was too ashamed to tell my parents because I was scared that they would consider me as a disgrace in their family. In fact, a disgrace in my own home.
No one was there for me. Even my closest sister, I just couldn’t tell her. It was all pain. Each and everyday I cried, went to school, came back home and cried. And repeated the process over and over again.
It all got worse when I would watch movies of girls being molested by their own families. It tore me to a thousand pieces. I would cut my wrists with a razor to erase the pain of no longer being a virgin. Everyday I would leave a mark on my body because it was no longer mine since my virginity was taken away from me.
Reflections in a mirror would look through my eyes and see depression that would someday become suicide. I was slowly running out of reasons to stay alive. I would wonder how I changed from being that little girl that smiled to the world without worries to this suicidal teenager.
On my 16th birthday a friend kindly brought me a notebook. I appreciated it because it was all a gift even though I was confused why she brought me one. Until I looked through the mirror at my reflection and saw the notebook calling out my name to stop weeping and pick it up because it has been waiting for me for centuries.
Until this day, this notebook has made this girl one of Grade 11’s Top Mathematics learner and writer.