Personal Essay (Fiction)

Misunderstood Runaway

I was delusional.

I was a foolish girl who had thought the world was against me and me against the world. I stood tall and proud; looking down on people as they themselves look down on me; arrogant is the right word for it. I was an arrogant girl who thought the world was just a mere sphere; a small tiny ball that humans strive to live on. I thought I was God; that I rule everything and everything was mine and mine alone. Petty things like homework and school meant nothing to me even though I got into much trouble. Grades and teachers were mere objects that I have to overcome.

I was a lonely girl.

I never had any friends. I thought I had friends but they were just using me like humans would to horses that pull carts. As soon as the horse became lame, the humans will then put a bullet in its brain; ending the life of a once useful slave. I was naïve too. I thought by helping everyone, I would then be accepted and be cared for. Unfortunately, the world doesn’t work that way. The world has its own evil tricks an treachery; a vile and corrupted place to put misunderstood humans like myself.

I was misunderstood by a lot of people as it turned out I was seen troublesome in the eyes of others.

No one has ever included me in their topic. Whenever I would try to blend into the ‘gang’, they will either pretend that I do not exist or they will all give me dirty looks. Some will even go as far as to interrogate me. I will not lie that I could not control my temper, maybe that was one of the reasons why people avoided me and I avoided them; my temper. I get annoyed easily as my patience level was incredibly low. At home, I would throw a short tantrum; throwing pillows in my room; trying to vent out my anger.

I was a bully victim.

The bullying started when I was 13. It goes on and on; a never ending cycle. Often I would find unwanted food and drinks all over my table. Not water, no. The drinks that are often sickly sweet like Coke and juice boxes; it’s contents are all dumped on my table and my chair. Everyone would just stare and whispers were heard. None made their move to help me and even if someone did, I would push them away. It’s not that I’m being unfriendly; it is that I was afraid that individual will, too, become a bully victim such as me.

I was constantly building concrete walls around me.

To shun off the unwanted hatred from others, to keep myself safe from the loathing of others, to block out the abhorrence of others and most of all, to be able to give comfort to myself. I was then labelled as a nerd or a geek for constantly reading story books in class. Why was it that I am labelled that way? I read books so I was able to escape the reality of things. Not only that, they were the ones that didn’t want to have anything to do with me and yet they gave me such labels. Many times I was tempted to step outside but unfortunately, it is too tall and too steep for me to climb. It dawn to me and I realised I was then a prisoner of my very own creation.

I was always putting a mask on.

A poker face was all I was able to give them as they laughed and constantly gossiped about me. But I was wrenched in the insides; I felt my heart was often stabbed multiple times as the words they mentioned are like long, thin daggers that pierced right into me. Invisible tears were constantly blurring my eyes every time they gave me a hateful glance that shot like arrows. Being at school was worst enough but being at home was like rubbing salt on a wound. Shouts and screams rang in my house as words were exchanged between me and my family members. Tears from not only my eyes but the eyes of my family members were streaming down their cheeks. Voices then became hoarse from all the shouting and screaming. I would then return to my room; my haven and sobbed silently under my covers as my tears damped the pillows.

I was a fool.

Numerous time have I thought suicidal was the answer to all these problems. I could no longer take it and I felt as though I was reaching a limit in my life. So many times I thought of running to the kitchen and using a knife to slit my wrists and drown in my own pool of blood. Fortunately or unfortunately, you decide, that I was much of a coward to do so. I would cry and curl myself into a tight ball whenever I thought of it. There was so much anger and despair in me that I wanted to set it free.

I was a rebel.

As my family and I were eating at a restaurant, I saw a family of different race; both parents are Americans and though they have three kids, one of them is Indian. I thought to myself, why be it that a family of different race are able to get along so easily where else a family of the same race does not? I lost my appetite but then again, I never had one in the first place. You see, we had a row before we came out for dinner and like a rebel I was, I refused to eat a single grain of rice. Across the table, I heard one of my family members complaining about me being such a ‘tough job to take care of’, another one was giving me the death stare. I felt so remorse and alone and I could no longer take it. Something inside of me broke.

I was a coward to run away from home.

I stayed up all night, planning and packing my belongings into a small backpack. I even put a set of uniform in my backpack, just in case. I then wrote a note, telling my family members to not look for me as I do not wish to see them for the time being. At dawn, I then set off to my piano teacher’s home. She never saw it coming until I reached her house which was 2 hours worth of walking. My soles and legs had bruises and blisters; bubbles as big as a 50 cent coin formed on both my feet. I told her the situation and cried in her arms, begging her to let me stay for a while until I get myself a place to permanently stay in. It was then understood as my teacher was sick and I was an extra baggage for her to take care of. I felt as though as bad luck was shadowing my every step and every move. However, my piano teacher, even though was under the weather, gave me a place to stay and I’ve stayed there for 3 whole days.

I was numbed.

My phone had not stopped ringing since then. My family members, specially my mom, kept on calling and calling me. I then reluctantly declined her calls and dismissed her messages. My aunts and cousins often messaged me; asking me to go home, to a place where I belonged. I was frustrated, how are they not able to see that being at home was the whole reason this happened!? I cried and cried until I could no longer shed a tear, my eyeballs were dry and I felt numb; not physically but mentally numb. I then found out my teacher went to meet up my mom to tell her my situation. At first, I was angry but then I thought, maybe it is a good idea. I waited patiently for my teacher to return.

It was my birthday.

On the 22^nd of June, I was then awakened by my teacher. It was 12 in the morning so it was technically 23^rd of June. My teacher asked me to meet her outside and it aroused my curiosity. I quickly got dressed into a more appropriate outfit and went out of the room while rubbing both my eyes. After rubbing my eyes a few times, I saw my family members standing by the front door. In their hands was a cake with a single candle that shone through the darkness. On their faces were smiles, sad smiles, as they sang a birthday song and ended with a, “Happy Birthday, Kimberly.” My mom then asked me if I could go home so that we’re able to celebrate my birthday properly. I no longer felt numb as the ice around my heart became to melt. Tears sprang into my once dried eyes and streamed down my cheeks. I stood there and started to cry; astonished by the actions taken by my family members. My mom then embraced me, followed by my father and my sister. At that time, I felt loved. I felt wanted and I felt cared for. Maybe running away was a bad solution to others but I was glad I made the decision to run away.

I was no longer invisible.

I was loved and care for.

The wall that surrounded me began to crumble as I slowly accept my life as well as my mistakes.

I knew running away is not the solution but I needed a new view.

I became open to my family, pouring out all the emotions that were kept bottled up; telling them about my situation at school and what not.

I became more attentive to my family’s point of view.

I became happier.

I am happy.