The Angel Within Herself

The Torture Begins.

As the last days of summer vacation approached we started to pack our things and get ready to leave Algarve. I was really sad to say goodbyes to our cousins and uncles because I knew we probably would only see each other on Christmas vacation and I would miss them very much. We headed back home and as usual I slept through the trip and my brother watched a movie while my father and my mom listened to the radio and occasionally talked about something.

When we got home we only had 3 days until school and so we had to unpack quickly and put everything in order. I was getting very anxious about going back to our high school because of my new " look" but my brother promised he would stay with me and protect me from everyone who would say mean things or mistreat me. Seeing I was in such a state my mom hugged me and called my father who told me that everything was going to be ok and that he always had my back, to try and cheer me up he said that when he came back be would take us tree climbing, which I LOVED.

I think I forgot to tell you but I was a real tomboy when I was younger ( maybe I still kinda am) I always enjoyed being outdoors: cycling with my father and my brother, wrestling with both of them, running, doing the monkey bars and etc.

It was almost a perfect day, the only thing that made it imperfect was my nervousness and the fact that later that day my brother had the brilliant idea of teaching me how to skate a surfboard( the skates with only 2 wheels), to "get myself distracted", by pushing me off a very inclined road and telling me to "wiggle" my hips. That particular adventure ended with me flying off the skate and landing under a car, which got me stuck and with a nail on my lower leg and a scar that will last forever. We laughed our butts off ( I was never one to cry when I hurt myself on stupid games), that was until I realised I couldn't walk and we had to call for our mom who was FURIOUS ahaha.

In result of my little accident I had to skip the first day back to school which, in my opinion, was great, but my mom thought otherwise and made me go the next day if I felt better( which I did unfortunately).

The next day my mom dropped us off at the private school and we were (obviously) late, great!(not) I walked into school with my bandaged lower leg and the scarf on my shaved head ( and late!), and tried to find my class only to knock on the door and have every single one of the kids to look at me from head to toe and to start whispering to each other. Once again I felt that feeling of wanting to run away, that feeling of shame and anxiety, but all I did was head straight to the last row of chairs and sit down with my gaze cast down at the floor.