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By me
My name is Shalyna. I'm a girl born a little too early as my mother's doctor wanted to go on vacation. This is just the beginning of the pathetic-ness of my life. As a little girl, I very much enjoyed staying at home with my mother, a housewife. I would snuggle under my mother's arms and hug her. We would watch TV and sleep together while waiting for my dad's arrival home. I enjoyed my life so much and had love and attention from everyone.
7 years passed like flowing water. I was admitted to a primary school. Life started to get hard. I wasn't lazy and always tried my best. However, my forgetfulness always gets the best of me. All I could be good in was English subject. At the age of 8, my morale drop even further when my teacher, Mrs. Tina, scolded me in front of my friends for forgetting to do my homework. I cried in shame. I wanted to give up on school. I hated her so much.
Wishing to be able to kill her!
At the age of 10, I met a very strict but considerate teacher, Miss Rafeah. Although she was mean, she had a kind heart. Unlike Mrs. Tina, Miss Rafeah wanted me to excel. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I tried; I could not produce anything better than borderline marks. I tried to fit in by being cool and trying to be funny. I knew it wasn't me. Plus, hell breaks loose when my younger brother was born! I lost all the attention. I was no longer cute anymore. Suddenly, I wasn't allowed to cuddle with mother. I was an outcast. I grew hostile to everyone. Even my friends
At the age of 12, I struggled to fit in. I created this dream world of mine where I deemed fit and I started fantasizing with all the "What if’s". I started stealing money from my parents. Meager amount at first. Then the thrill of stealing got the best of me and I was stealing big. I stole the money to get friends. At that time, money really could buy you friends when you are one complete idiot and fat girl like me. In the end I got caught. One thing never changed, everybody still hated me. Or that is at least what I thought. My dad wanted to send me to the Girls Home. I thought no one would care but my mother and siblings started crying. They actually cared for me. My sister pleaded with my father to not send me there. Everyone loved me but I just didn't realize it. Luckily my dad relented and I was given another chance and I promised myself, never to steal again.
I graduated from primary school and entered a more challenging atmosphere. At 13, I had my first crush. It was fun! All that fuzzy-woozy feeling that you get when you see the person you like. I love that feeling. It keeps the sensitive side of me alive. I found the greatest friend, Wati, was what I called her. We'd spend hours talking about nothing on the phone and after school-hours were spend sitting around fast food outlets and shopping malls talking about just anything under the sun. Although it was just doing nothing, we both loved having each other as company.
When I was in Secondary 2, my studies improved. I found someone who actually liked me and wanted to be my boyfriend. It was fun having a boyfriend but I just couldn't adjust to things and it felt awkward. So we broke up but we still remained friends. My friends thought I was hurt, but I wasn't. It was an entirely no feel thing. Few months later, I had a tiff with Wati. It was nothing but I had a bad temper and I hated to be saboed so I didn't talk to her for almost a week. Then eventually, I got over it and we reconciled. But somehow I knew, things are never going to be the same.
As much as I thought, we drifted far apart. At 15, streaming in the school system was inevitable. I was separated from my circle of friends and was forced to start all over again. I was hurt when I knew she actually was in my class but opted to change. I was heartbroken. There was lesser time to hang out with Wati maybe because of my unforeseen resentment or because she had her circle of four friends. It kills me to think that I was one of them before. I started mixing around with my class but I don't feel I belonged there. It was just, different!
Sweet 16, Wati and I grew back a little closer together as there are a lot of integrated class activities. We started hanging out again. They shared everything together all over again. Wati was there when my boyfriend cheated on me, when my sister created problem for our family. She was there when I had suicidal thoughts. But I know, everything cannot be told to just anyone. She had some secrets kept from me or she just doesn’t feel easy in telling me. But somehow they understood each other, in those silence, we knew that we had each other, she had my back and I had hers.
We continued our support right until we were 17, where troubles started again. I didn't tell her I had a boyfriend and in that process, I hurt her. We started drifting away after the O levels. I had my work and might have been too selfish to notice that I was actually pushing my best friend away. But how hard I tried to settle a problem, another one creeps up my back. Its like I had trouble written over my face with a capital 'T' on it too. Everything in my life started having shockwaves of the capital 'T' including the love life.
I was admitted to a local polytechnic and yet again I had to start re-socializing. It was pretty awkward but it’s a matter of must. I did make some friends but it wasn't long that we had to separate as we are streamed to our specialist course. Dreadful life. Being pushed and pulled this way is very exhausting. Soon then, I started to mix around with more guys. Then the BF started to show temper. Little did I know, there was something going on. He was flirting with his old ex-GF. they just broke up when I got to know him. so I was furious. I saw it with my own eyes those words he said to her. It hurt badly. but I had no one to turn to, so I cried my eyes out after we had a bad quarrel.
I depended on myself for consolation while he had many other people to talk to. I became more short-tempered, hated him ordering me around. until one day, he told me, he was going to leave me for her. I finally silenced myself. I finally came to my senses that, I shouldn't be gripping on to him, but my life. 2 weeks from that night I left him and Singapore to further my studies in Australia.
I gave myself space. I was happy again. three years, at the age of 24, I decided I was ready to come home but god had other plans for me. The flight that I took never touched down to Singapore. We crashed on an island after a sudden thunderstorm that emerged without warning.
With the few breaths I have now, I recalled all the sins and memories that I have, wishing I could change things for the better and get a grip on my life and I did. i survived that incident and now even though i'm not able to see anymore, I am glad that god gave me the chance to apreciate this life and appreciate everything around me. I am stronger now and I finally got a grip on my life.
