The heart of the ocean

🔨...Brisé...🏹

Tuesday:

First hour, physical education. We were all happy that day, in fact we all came on time, we couldn't wait to play volleyball, or rather, they couldn't wait to play volleyball because I knew I would retire to play ping pong with Manar. As soon as we entered the gym, after changing, the teacher told us that we would do a different exercise that day, so instead of taking refuge in myself, I followed all my classmates.

I approached the benches near the entrance with Manar, and after talking to her about how happy I was to finally be part of some sporting activity, I realized that she was looking at me with different eyes, she was quite worried. I kept talking like nothing was wrong, but suddenly he said: "Maria, be careful. David wants to throw a ball in your face".

David was positioned towards the bottom of the gym, with him was Jacob, I didn't understand why she said these things to me, I didn't listen to her because I thought it was impossible to throw a ball at me, "It's not Cristiano Ronaldo" I was thinking in my head, but as soon as I saw their smiling faces, I realized that something was going wrong.

David had placed the ball under his feet, and after I didn't even notice that detail, my head started spinning. I was staggering, I couldn't stand anymore.

I began to feel a stinging pain in the nose. I staggered as if I tooked drugs in a disco on a Saturday night. I checked with my finger several times if there was blood coming out of my nose, but the only thing that came out was smoke, and David had become my white handkerchief that I wanted to turn into fire, the only thing he could do was wave the white flag.

I came out of the gym and sat in the benches, I couldn't figure out why I hated myself so much. I kept thinking about what I did wrong, what went through his head, what would brought him to did such a thing. The pain was so strong that I couldn't breathe, with every sigh I made, I felt worse and worse. Manar and my other classmates joined me, I was completely surrounded.

Manar sat down to my right, to my left sat Bea, in front of me seated on the floor, all the others girls. I was completely out of my mind, I couldn't think straight, suddenly I burst into deep tears. I never liked crying in front of anyone, but I felt the need to bring out all that anger and disappointment. That thing pissed me off, I was crying over someone trying to make me feel like shit. I wasn't crying because of the physical pain, I couldn't accept it, I was crying over him and I couldn't understand why.

I didn't give a shit if my nose had broken, because in addition to it my heart had also broken.
I had no feelings for him, so I didn't understand what was happening to me, I was afraid, afraid of being fragile. I tried to be a rock but he could melt all my armor like rain. Bea started to comfort me, she told me I had to let go of all the nonsense, that I was perfect the way I was, that I didn't need anything, that no one could afford to hurt me, to destroy my being.

I felt reassured, and for once perhaps I wiped my tears with someone by my side on earth. I didn't expect all that love, but I decided to give them a chance, to give us a chance in the hope that better days would come, days with sunsets to spend with someone other than my pillow. But as usual I was wrong...

We all got up to go back to the gym, the teacher asked me what had happened, asked someone to bring me some ice. I saw David laughing at me, once again he said something and kept laughing. At that point I had had enough of his attitude, I wanted to choke him with my own hands. Many times I said I wanted to kill him, I tried to reach him but his salvation was always to run away. Meanwhile, the teacher blocked my arms behind my back, like I was an inmate, forgetting who the real criminal was.

They sat me down again, in my battle ring I just wanted to put it k.o,
I felt like Balboa, and on my mouth I wanted to taste the thirst for victory. As usual, that moment was forgotten from the moment we went up to class. No one talked about it, neither the teachers or my classmates. It was thrown into the dustbin of memory, the story was about me, and no one cared about me.
In the following days we began to see many films during the hour of religion. The teacher offered us a lot of interesting movies, full of meaning, movies that were trying to make us think, maybe too deep to be understood by kids like us. Too much for us, as we learned to think like war machines in a four-wall world.