Chapter Six

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Nothing.

Nothing.

More nothing.

For the rest of the week I hardly do anything. I mindlessly go to school and complete all the tasks that they give me. I do my chores in silence. I sleep. Nothing is better nowadays than the peacefulness of sleep. I don’t have to think, I don’t have to talk, I don’t have to put up with being near people.

The weekend comes and goes without much recognition from my mind.

Monday morning: architecture. Again I sit away from Morgan, and again Francis and Madallin come and join me. I think I like them – they’re really nice – but I don’t want to have friends anymore, not after being abandoned. I don’t want to hand my trust out on a silver platter like I used to.

Recess and lunchtime are spent in my corner. I don’t register anything, I hardly blink, Sometimes I’m not sure if I even breathe. How wonderful it would be if I didn’t breathe. Then all of my problems would be solved.

~Stop it Lavina! ~

~Why should I? ~

~Think about the people around you. Think about what that would do to them if you died. ~

~So what? Why should I worry about them? There are times when I need to put myself first. ~

I don’t have alter-egos, but it’s almost like I do. I keep discovering new me’s. My optimistic side vanished several weeks, if not months, ago.

I go home and sleep.

...

I wake up and I get ready for school. In the process I take a Panadol as an experiment to see if it will cease my headache for the day.

I have English first. We have a spelling test which I think I pass with flying colours. At the beginning of recess Francis and Madallin come over to my locker with their group of friends. I have a chorus of five voices saying hi to me. I can feel my headache coming back.  

“What are you doing for recess?” Tanya asks me.

“Sitting,” I say.

“Come with us,” Chloe says.

“I’m busy,” I mumble.

“No you’re not. Don’t be silly. You have to come with us,” Sara says.

They drag me out into a part of the school that I try to avoid. They don’t touch me physically but their constant talking to me makes me stay with them. For once in my life someone’s actually talking to me, trying to find out what I like to do, where I like to go. I try not to answer but they keep asking questions of me and I have to answer.

“Do you like horses?” Madallin asks me.

“Yeah, I guess,” I answer.

“Darn!” Francis says.

“Why?” I’m confused now.

“Well,’ Madallin begins. “Everyone here likes horses except for Francis and I think she was hoping that our new member was someone else that didn’t like them.”

“Wait,” I hold up my hand. “You’re saying that I’m now part of your group?”

“Of course!” all of the girls shout. “We wouldn’t have it any other way!”

 …

The rest of the day goes by. The group which I have secretly named The Pack keeps me close to their persons. They don’t let me wander off by myself at lunch. As much as I try not to, I’m quite enjoying the attention. I let them fuss over me; playing with my hair, drawing on my arm, putting make-up on me. I’ll wash it all off in the twenty minutes I have between the end of school and when my bus picks me up. Mum doesn’t like it when I have scribbles on me.

 When I go to bed, I fall asleep with a smile on my face, anticipating and dreading tomorrow. 

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