My week at her Hell (The strong little girl that was bullied)

I remember her quite well. She didn’t speak a lot. Her skin was pale white and she had fiercy red, curly hair. Green, big eyes that looked thoughtful but also a bit scared. A very smart girl. Very kind and caring. She didn’t fit in, not appearance-wise nor with personality-wise. Why? I’ll tell you why. Because children people can be cruel. To be one of the team, you’re ought to be alike in someway. She was very different. Difference is seldomly accepted. It screams “danger”. It screams not “normal”; it is dangering the secure and familiar atmosphere. The “normal”, “natural” atmosphere; which is nothing but man-made. Created by us and not a pattern destinied not to be changed.

She stayed strong, despite all this. I wonder how, what gave her that strength? She sat in that same classroom, for six years, mostly alone and followed the lessons intensly; shutting herself out from the mean kids. She did her homework and did well in the tests. I saw her once in a while outside, in the school-yard, and wanted to talk to her. But then my friends called me to come and play. I went to play. When she passed me in the hall, I smiled at her. She looked through me; she didn’t notice I smiled at her. Not someone behind or beside her. Sometimes she was with some girl. But they often let her alone again. The cooler kids called. The red-head was not invited. She didn’t mind, really. She took the day as it came and made herself deaf to their stupidity.

One day I, I was in her class. My own class had gone for a trip somewhere for a week and I had decided not to go. So I was for the time being meant to be in their class. I was an intruder, they didn’t take me in well. I was also a foreigner; no, I didn’t look like them at all. I didn’t fit in. I tried to talk with everyone and was overly polite in my way of speech; my personality didn’t fit. I was seated next to the girl with the curly red hair and pale skin. She always had seats beside her available; no one wanted to sit beside her, if they must not. I smiled at her and she smiled back for the first time really meeting my gaze. She asked why I didn’t go with my class to the trip. I explained it shortly and she nodded understandigly. Really understandigly; I felt warm inside.
I felt the tension in the class, the moment I had started talking to her. The lesson began and I saw how the girl next to me was concentrated, but I was distracted and felt shy. Hearing the whispers, the mean looks and suddenly paper thrown close to me and the girl. The teacher noticed nothing for the time being. Her voice was distant and the white crayon in her hand was creating circles and squares in the black board. But I couldn’t make anything out of it. I felt time was being awfully slow and I just wanted air to breath; I felt suffocated. Suddenly her low young voice woke me up from my confusion and asked if we’d do the tasks together. I felt she was my open window. Near her I felt I could breath.
We did the tasks together and she noticed that I was awfully good at Maths. (I’ve always been good at Maths; in later years I simply got interest in other things and left Maths behind me, being sloopy about doing my homewok or attending Maths class. Interestingly Maths has been somewhat of a great passion in my childhood and a reason for trouble in my teen years.) I told her I was was really passionate about Maths. Some kids overheard us and smilingly asked did I want to become a Maths teacher. The red-head’s expression became pale(er) and with her eyes I noticed a kind of begging to not say anything. Why? I answered them excitedly ”I want to become a Maths-professor!” I was quite passionate about myself back then too. ‘ Teacher’ was not enough of a title, but ‘professor’ or ‘doctor’. They laughed so hard. You can guess they couldn’t stop teasing me for the whole day. Boys and girls alike. Whilst they also threw their papers full of Maths tasks at me. I was so confused. Why would they tease me? That is ridiculous. One boy went too far with his teasing and I bursted out crying.

The day had been too much. I was a well-liked girl, I was kind to everyone and this sudden hate was confusing. I cried like a baby and screamed at him, then I pushed him in anger (I should have gotten a trophy for it) and told him to stop teasing me, he had no right to tamper a dream of mine only because he is not good at it himself. (I’m a genius, honestly, how could I even say something so rational in a situation like that?) The girls became very bothered and blushed; they didn’t expect me to be so open about my feelings.

A personality that didn’t fit in.

The boy just got silent and stared at the ground as if the he had found the meaning of life there. The teacher returned (she had left after giving the tasks) and was shocked to see the mess. You can guess all the boys and girls got quite a lot of trouble. All had to apologize. I was very upset and crying a lot, so they took me to another class where a teacher who knew me well came, made feel better and made sure the biggest rascals were punished severely.  

But that’s not the important part. The important part is: She was with me the whole time and had tried her best to linder the teasing. She was quite shocked I had cried like that; not many fifth-graders did it. Especially not me, someone who was like a sunshine daily. She smiled thankfully and very sadly at me, telling me they deserved it. I was sobbing and nodded. So upset I had been that I even today remember it quite crystal-clear. I looked at her shyly, I couldn’t ask her how she handled it everyday. Her smile was genuine and strong.

 

“Poor Kisa… Children can be cruel, I know that.” She sighed at took a bite of the pizza my mother had made. We had watched an epsiode where a young character had gotten very much teased by her fellow classmates. I wrinkled my forehead and my gaze was somewhere in the past. “I admire how you handled it B…” She looked a bit surprised but that warm smile again lightened up my day. “I know, I wondered that too but, one has to stay strong.”

“You had the class of Hell you know.” I said out loud and sighed. “It’s funny how all of them turned out to be loosers…” I grinned.
 
I don’t let my tears be a weakness. It’s a sign of strength. Through the rain the summer rays peak in. Smile after the rain.

And we continued watching the anime Fruits Basket. Today we had an animemarathon. It was lots of fun, tears and laughter. Seriously, watch Fruits Basket.

“Ajla, I’m in love!” She sighed after we had watched the last episode. “I must read the manga now, no return!” She laughed and I laughed with her.

“Victory. I’m so glad you liked it!“ I said with a grin.

We said goodbye and I’ll inshaAllah meet her this week later again.

The strong little girl that was bullied. The strong young woman whom I admire and love. A friend like no other.

Thank you, B.