I woke up this morning and immediately looked in the mirror. Its not because I’m shallow, or think myself more beautiful than other girls. I did it to check for scratch marks or a busted or chewed lip. Thankfully today, I don’t have either. I lay back down again and stare up at the white ceiling of my white room with my white and blue bedspread and white carpet. Its pretty ordinary given my circumstances. Slowly, I rise from bed then check my entire body for any bruises before deciding I’m okay enough to get dressed. I have to be wary of every cut, of every bruise and every rash, otherwise I could be attending my own funeral.
Unlike everybody else, I can’t play contact sports at school, can’t really do that much dancing and my fun past times normally involve a good book or a night typing away on the computer. Boring as it may sound, its preferable to ending up in the hospital because I fell.
Finishing with dressing, I walk downstairs and see my mom and dad in the kitchen. Dad’s drinking is normal dose of caffeine while mom opts for orange juice. There’s a big stack of pancakes where I normally sit. Why my parents fix me so much when they know I will not eat it is beyond me. I shrug on my coat and grab a plain pancake, eating it quickly. I say goodbye to my parents then get in my car and drive to school.
If I were normal, I would have more than one best friend. I swear they should put me on some kind of antidepressant but if I’m allergic to it, I would never be able to know. I have a medical condition called CIPA or Congenital Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis. That basically means I could break every single bone in my body and not even register the pain. I don’t feel pain. At least no physically.
Some say it’s a blessing, others a curse. I know its my own personal apocalypse. I don’t sweat so there’s always the possibility that I’m going to burn up in the sunlight. Its no small wonder my parents moved from sunny San Fernando to Anchorage Alaska when they realized my medical condition was so serious. As if the freezing temperatures wouldn’t slow my blood or shivering keep me warmer.
Living without pain, is well different. I can never say that it hurt like hell when I slam my arm against something or that its so hot I feel like I’m dying. I probably am really dying from heat stroke, but I can’t tell.
My parents say that other than not feeling pain, I have a normal life. If normal is driving to school alone every morning and getting looked at like a freak, then yeah, I am normal. I have one friend and the only reason we’re friends is because she’s able to cheat off me in Math class. Somehow this puts me as high up in the hierarchy of her life.
Shrugging off the thought I head into school for another boring day, taking my normal place near the back of the room, stuffing my ears with the headphones of my iPod. Flushing out the sounds of all those around me as they talk about their weekends. It makes me sick inside knowing that I can never experience those things when I’m not the same.
As the class begins to start, I jot down notes. Mr Swane is my Government and Economics teacher and he really doesn’t do much but give us notes. I don’t listen to him talk, I just copy then drown myself in Evanescence or Green Day. Thirty minutes into the class, my eyes go to the door as it cracks open and a girl walks in. She’s definitely new. Unlike most schools I’m sure, Seward High School has very few (as in less than four) goth kids or emos or whatever the hell they’re called. And right from the start, I knew this girl was as much an outsider as me. Her lips were painted black and her hair was black with strips of hot pink. The eyeliner was a bit much and she had on chained pants and a black shirt with a creepy lettering of the band Slipknot spread over it. She took the seat next to me and then looked at me, and gave me a smile. Not only was I not expecting this, I wasn’t even realizing that when she waved I waved back. Me. The loner and freak, actually not getting stared at as some sort of genetic deficientcy.
I found out later that the girl, Lexi, was to be the talk of the school. As lunch rolled around, I waited till the line was nearly gone so that I couldn’t get hit and made a quick tray before sitting down at my favorite spot beneath a beech tree. And there was Lexi walking right up to me. She sank down and offered her black gloved hand with the fingers of the glove cut out. Her skin was ashen white and her nails black, just like the rest of whatever makeup she wore. She smiled at me. Again. “Hi,” she greeted. “I’m Lexi…”
“I know…” I stated simply. “I’m Denise…Denise Logan…” I introduced myself casually. Surely she had heard all about me by now. But she just smiled at me.
“Nice to meet you…You know you are like the nicest person here…and a loner…just like me.”
I wanted to point out that a loner has no friends and isn’t so damn optimistic but decided to keep my mouth shut on that account. “Where you from?” she asked.
“Pheonix…Ever been there?”
“No…I can’t go anywhere that hot…”
I expected her to ask why but she didn’t. She just smirked. “Yeah…it is pretty fiery.”
“Why are you talking to me?” I ask. I’m not trying to sound rude or anything, but I’m so anti-social that when someone starts speaking to me I get the feeling that they are up to no good. Normally I’m right.
“Why wouldn’t I talk to you? You don’t want me to?”
“I don’t know…not used to being talked to…” I admitted popping a grape into my mouth and chewing thoughtfully. I taste something metallic and icky and realize I’ve just bitten my tongue. Whoops. Goth girl -Lexi- sees the blood coming from my mouth and her eyes widen.
“Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly. Obviously its worse than I think. Normally it is.
I wipe my chin. “Yeah,” I say but the sound is gurgled. I take a napkin and place it in my mouth, soaking up the blood before pulling it out slowly. I use my finger to trace around my mouth finding the deep cut and sigh. Mom’s not going to be happy, I think.
“You sure?” Lexi asked.
“Yes I’m sure…” But I wasn’t. I get up and she follows suit. “What are you doing?” I ask hostile in tone.
“Making sure…” she responded. I looked at her strangely.
“You do know what’s wrong with me right?” I asked her.
“Yeah…everyone told me. Just because you have a medical condition doesn’t make you any less human right?” she asked
I looked at her long and hard for a moment and realized she was right. Maybe my lonely reign was over. Maybe I was just kidding myself. But I didn’t care. I looked her in the eye and nodded. “Right,” I answered her then walked off to the nurses office.
Unlike everybody else, I can’t play contact sports at school, can’t really do that much dancing and my fun past times normally involve a good book or a night typing away on the computer. Boring as it may sound, its preferable to ending up in the hospital because I fell.
Finishing with dressing, I walk downstairs and see my mom and dad in the kitchen. Dad’s drinking is normal dose of caffeine while mom opts for orange juice. There’s a big stack of pancakes where I normally sit. Why my parents fix me so much when they know I will not eat it is beyond me. I shrug on my coat and grab a plain pancake, eating it quickly. I say goodbye to my parents then get in my car and drive to school.
If I were normal, I would have more than one best friend. I swear they should put me on some kind of antidepressant but if I’m allergic to it, I would never be able to know. I have a medical condition called CIPA or Congenital Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis. That basically means I could break every single bone in my body and not even register the pain. I don’t feel pain. At least no physically.
Some say it’s a blessing, others a curse. I know its my own personal apocalypse. I don’t sweat so there’s always the possibility that I’m going to burn up in the sunlight. Its no small wonder my parents moved from sunny San Fernando to Anchorage Alaska when they realized my medical condition was so serious. As if the freezing temperatures wouldn’t slow my blood or shivering keep me warmer.
Living without pain, is well different. I can never say that it hurt like hell when I slam my arm against something or that its so hot I feel like I’m dying. I probably am really dying from heat stroke, but I can’t tell.
My parents say that other than not feeling pain, I have a normal life. If normal is driving to school alone every morning and getting looked at like a freak, then yeah, I am normal. I have one friend and the only reason we’re friends is because she’s able to cheat off me in Math class. Somehow this puts me as high up in the hierarchy of her life.
Shrugging off the thought I head into school for another boring day, taking my normal place near the back of the room, stuffing my ears with the headphones of my iPod. Flushing out the sounds of all those around me as they talk about their weekends. It makes me sick inside knowing that I can never experience those things when I’m not the same.
As the class begins to start, I jot down notes. Mr Swane is my Government and Economics teacher and he really doesn’t do much but give us notes. I don’t listen to him talk, I just copy then drown myself in Evanescence or Green Day. Thirty minutes into the class, my eyes go to the door as it cracks open and a girl walks in. She’s definitely new. Unlike most schools I’m sure, Seward High School has very few (as in less than four) goth kids or emos or whatever the hell they’re called. And right from the start, I knew this girl was as much an outsider as me. Her lips were painted black and her hair was black with strips of hot pink. The eyeliner was a bit much and she had on chained pants and a black shirt with a creepy lettering of the band Slipknot spread over it. She took the seat next to me and then looked at me, and gave me a smile. Not only was I not expecting this, I wasn’t even realizing that when she waved I waved back. Me. The loner and freak, actually not getting stared at as some sort of genetic deficientcy.
I found out later that the girl, Lexi, was to be the talk of the school. As lunch rolled around, I waited till the line was nearly gone so that I couldn’t get hit and made a quick tray before sitting down at my favorite spot beneath a beech tree. And there was Lexi walking right up to me. She sank down and offered her black gloved hand with the fingers of the glove cut out. Her skin was ashen white and her nails black, just like the rest of whatever makeup she wore. She smiled at me. Again. “Hi,” she greeted. “I’m Lexi…”
“I know…” I stated simply. “I’m Denise…Denise Logan…” I introduced myself casually. Surely she had heard all about me by now. But she just smiled at me.
“Nice to meet you…You know you are like the nicest person here…and a loner…just like me.”
I wanted to point out that a loner has no friends and isn’t so damn optimistic but decided to keep my mouth shut on that account. “Where you from?” she asked.
“Pheonix…Ever been there?”
“No…I can’t go anywhere that hot…”
I expected her to ask why but she didn’t. She just smirked. “Yeah…it is pretty fiery.”
“Why are you talking to me?” I ask. I’m not trying to sound rude or anything, but I’m so anti-social that when someone starts speaking to me I get the feeling that they are up to no good. Normally I’m right.
“Why wouldn’t I talk to you? You don’t want me to?”
“I don’t know…not used to being talked to…” I admitted popping a grape into my mouth and chewing thoughtfully. I taste something metallic and icky and realize I’ve just bitten my tongue. Whoops. Goth girl -Lexi- sees the blood coming from my mouth and her eyes widen.
“Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly. Obviously its worse than I think. Normally it is.
I wipe my chin. “Yeah,” I say but the sound is gurgled. I take a napkin and place it in my mouth, soaking up the blood before pulling it out slowly. I use my finger to trace around my mouth finding the deep cut and sigh. Mom’s not going to be happy, I think.
“You sure?” Lexi asked.
“Yes I’m sure…” But I wasn’t. I get up and she follows suit. “What are you doing?” I ask hostile in tone.
“Making sure…” she responded. I looked at her strangely.
“You do know what’s wrong with me right?” I asked her.
“Yeah…everyone told me. Just because you have a medical condition doesn’t make you any less human right?” she asked
I looked at her long and hard for a moment and realized she was right. Maybe my lonely reign was over. Maybe I was just kidding myself. But I didn’t care. I looked her in the eye and nodded. “Right,” I answered her then walked off to the nurses office.
