The heart of the ocean

✨🌠Written in the stars 🌠✨

The following week we all went to the theatre to see a show, which would be the subject of professors questions. We had been accompanied by the English teacher, who as always did not want to do anything. She always thought only of herself... After we got to the theater, we all sat in random places, but still close as a class group. In addition to us there were other students from other schools in the city, it was a show organized to teach to children of our age in a different way than usual.
I sat in one place, and Josh was next to me. Everyone had their phone in their hands, no one was watching carefully what the artists were performing. The guys were just thinking about doing some instastories to show their lives to their followers. Unfortunately I was out of that world, not having an advanced phone, not having facebook, Instagram, and any other social media my life wasn't based on looking like I was in the spotlight all day. The show was not at all engaging, and many times I too was distracted by looking at the faces of the various people who were there.
Maybe I was looking for Manar, because once I walked in, I lost sight of her, right then, I needed her so badly. The more time passed and the more bored I was, the more bored I was and the more I looked for something to think about, but nothing came to mind.

I heard Josh laughing a little, I saw that he was holding the phone in his hands but I didn't understand what was making him laugh so much. I was very curious, but being afraid he might see me, I decided to turn my back on my right and then peek at the conversation. It was a group, I could notice the different messages, he occasionally tilted it to my side to avoid being noticed by the teacher. In those moments, I was able to understand what they were talking about by reading a message from her: "I'm sitting next to her, what a disgusting".
I felt so out of place, like I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn't cry, I stood there to see what the others would write. At that point I didn't understand if he was doing it on purpose on tilting his phone, maybe to make me read everything, all bad thoughts they had about me that made no sense because they didn't know me, they didn't know anything about me, every day, every night, every moment of my life since my mother asked me for help. She was looking for a shoulder to cry on, even though we were 5 in the house, my mum and I, my two older brothers and my father.
My head was already full, but I had to get strong because the battles increased as the days increased. I stood silent by now looking at the void in front of my eyes waiting to leave that place, to begin to face the other battles that were waiting for me at home. When we all got up to go out, we met in small groups in the main hall, only to realize that the teacher did not find herself after tens of minutes we were waiting for her. After all, we were kids, and most of us didn't know the way to home. I remember that I and others gathered to return to school, so that everyone would know the way back without any problem.
On the way back all the girls were talking about the fact that One Direction had now become 4 , zayn Malik had taken off because he could no longer bear all the pressure. All of them, including me, were very upset, also because he was always my favorite from the beginning. I was sad, but knowing that he would be reborn sooner or later made me hope to see him maybe after a few years in a front row concert. I was happy that he had chosen what he felt he was doing, and if that choice would lead him to find internal peace, then I too had to be happy, because not everyone in this world has the possibility to choice.
The next few days after I got home from school, I saw a box on my bed. I decided to open it, I was so excited, but I had no idea what it was. It was a smartphone, I made a shout of joy that all my neighbors could hear, I ran immediately to my father open arms. I was too excited, so much so that tears came out of my eyes. My mother joined us with a smile on her face, and I decided to unpack it in front of them. I saw my father very proud of him, as if he was giving me the strength to continue my days in a different way, perhaps no longer being in the dark of everything that my classmates were writing about me. I was craving revenge, just waiting for the right moment. The first thing I did was download all the music I liked at the time.
In the following weeks, as the end-of-the-year theatre show was getting closer and closer, the teachers told us that they would provide all the necessary information in the whatsapp theatre group. I had a phone, but until then I decided not to take it to school, because I didn't have a number yet. It was the right time to do it, since by now it was also needed for the only thing that led me to be myself: the theater, the next day in fact at school I decided to give my phone number to Lorelle for then be added in the class group, I gave it to her towards the end of school hours, perhaps out of shame,fear of what could have happen since I was not well accepted among them. They could not continue to speak ill of me, it could have been the beginning of a war or the end of my detention that I had created myself not to suffer. I had to show myself.
I decided to do it as quietly as I could. I didn't pay much attention, I continued my life as if nothing had happened, in fact, as soon as I finished lunch, I told myself to rest a little 'cause I had no tests scheduled for the following days. I rested as if I were in heaven, in a vital state that perhaps belonged to me more than my own life. It was the only time I could feel pampered by the love of someone I knew only wanted the best for me, God. I woke up after many hours, took a snack with my family, nothing had changed in my life, went on as normal.
While I was snacking, I listened to all the different experiences that my mother and father had lived; my father always told me of how the world had changed compared to his times, that respect came before everything, love for parents, for the family , only goods that remain over time because they come from the heart. My mother used to tell me how hard love was in these times, especially because of the racism that so far has persecuted us; then suddenly returning to my room I remembered the new phone.
I took it in my hands and saw that I received a lot of messages from my classmates. I opened up the whatsapp group and saw that David had welcomed me, was the first to write, but after several hours in the hope of my answer that did not arrive, began to talk about me saying that maybe I was asleep, or I didn't give a damn about them, so I ignored them because I felt superior. At that point I decided to show up and write a message saying "hi". We started texting for hours and hours, that was just the beginning of a series of hours of my life spent arguing with David through texts. The more the days went by, the more the hours grew, but on the school he began to stay further away from me, and as soon as we got home we immediately began to fight.
For me, it became like a drug, a ritual, I wanted more and more. We insulted each other, one day he asked me what problems I had seen that I looked crazy, I answered that I had many, and he was one of those maybe the most important of whom I wanted to get rid of. He insulted me about my taste in music, I remember that some of my classmates had managed to go to the One Direction concert were I really would like to went, so I asked the about sending me some pictures or videos; with the innocence and excitement of a music-loving little girl.
He told me that I was out of my mind to follow that group, my attitude was exaggerated to get to ask such things with so much emotion, he hated them and for him I was supposed to hate them too. We fought until late at night that the others got so sick of us that they asked us to write each other in private. I took the initiative, saved his phone number in the address book, opened his photo profile, and I felt a blow to the heart, he had a black and white image, he was smiling, he was beautiful... I wish I had taken it, to bring me forever moments of joy to remember, just the two of us together forever. I decided to take a screenshot of the image, to then keep it in the gallery; I decided not to fall into that trap called "love", so I wrote him so forcefully asking him why he was acting in that way. I wanted to restore peace, I was completely devastated by his words that kept hurting me deeply, I could not think that a person could change with me so radically, I wanted explanations at least to live in peace. I didn't care about anyone else's thoughts, but his did, I cared about both his did, I cared both his thought, and him as a person. But he didn't listen to me, he said to the group that I was bothering him, and that there was no way in the world he would answer me in private because we had nothing to talk about. The more he did this, the more I wanted to know what was on his mind, what his purpose was, and where all that hatred would lead him. I just wanted to live in peace, but these thoughts prevented me from doing so, so I spent a lot of my days thinking about him.
The theatre show was just days away, and there was plenty of theatre rehearsal for every little detail. Everyone had to go over their parts, but not everyone had the main roles, for example me.