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Jennetta, a seventeen-year-old, sat by her window on a rain-drenched night, her reflections on the window glass gave her moments to think back at her life struggles while growing up. She navigated through her worst memories and the lessons learnt along the way. She learned to pen down every experience she had encountered and make them into stories, letting those who face similar struggles know they are neither alone nor peculiar for feeling this way.

Chapter 1 This is my story

I am Jenetta , a 17-years-old high school graduate, I am the sole child of our family. My dad's a businessman, a traveler who only returns home on weekends. Mom, on the other hand, is an online lecturer, keeping to the house except when she has duties at her school. I mirror my mom in appearance, save for my dad's long black hair. While she boasts a rich dark brown hair, we share the same brownish-black eyes. She has a thicker figure, whereas I'm her slender doppelganger. My highschool was my nemesis; the struggle to connect left me feeling misunderstood. Yet, I knew I had to face it head-on.

Well this is my story:

In the depths of my soul, where the echoes of forgotten dreams linger, and the shadows of untold stories dance, there exists a pile of unspoken words-a fabric woven with threads of longing and hope. It is a place untouched by the hands of time, where my heart's verses find their sanctuary. The world beyond my window pulses with life, a chaotic ballet of lights and shadows. Yet, here, in this dimly lit room, alongside the fragrance of old books and the whisper of autumn leaves, I find my refuge. The weight of unspoken words bears down on me, each one a universe waiting to be born. Sitting on my bed facing the window in my room I trace the lines of my reflection in the glass, meeting the gaze of a soul hungry for expression and validations. The glowing lights that escaped into my room through the window glass cast elegant strokes across my face, painting my features in hues of anticipation. I close my eyes and let the words flow, a flood of emotions cascading onto the shape of my thoughts. "Oh it has happened again", I thought. I needed validation again, I thought I was loved, I thought they said, "be you", wasn't that all they rang in our ears while growing up. This is just who I am, how is it a crime? Yes, I have the worst personality , a personality no one should have. I have tried to change it several times, but I find myself going back to it. I really want a change, I really want to change. Is that too much to ask?. No one is ever there for me. I dance to songs that only I understand the lyrics just to take my mind off thinking i look stupid to many people but only I know the weight the lyrics carries, I know how much it impacts on me. Hmm, it is a lot, it is sad to have this personality, really sad that you can't make friends and keep them because of this same behavior, But you will never know until you walk in my shoes. I'm tired!! I'm tired of hearing things I'm not. I just wish everyone could do that to me, not listening to others before hating on me, oh... I don't even know how to make friends(scoffs) and no one wants to make friends with me so what's the point?

Still sitting by the window, I started getting hungry but I had to wait a little longer for mum to be done cooking dad's favorite dish. Dad is returning home today after months of traveling. Mum couldn't contain her happiness as she had missed her husband dearly. Mum didn't allow me to cook for her husband, she wanted to cook for him by herself. Lucky me. It started to pour heavily and that moment took me back to some hurtful memories I had back in highschool in the process of trying to change. There exists a memory that has etched itself into the shape of my mind, a snapshot of innocence and wonder that continues to shape the contours of my perspective to this day. It was a day like any other, but for me, it carried the weight of whispered judgments and unseen barriers.

It happened on the first day of resumption for the next term. I was walking by the school hallway when I started hearing things about me again. It's happening again. I thought everyone would have changed or tried to see the real me, but I guess I was mistaken. I just gave them some kind of look and walked past them.

Immediately I got into my class heading to my seat I heard someone tell another

''She's rude, don't talk to her,' she said.

"She thinks she knows everything, the day I would beat her up her mum would rush down to school," another said .

''She is very, very proud," another one said.

The echoes of their words resounded into my ears. Each word was like a cruel twist of the knife, piercing into my tender heart, but there was nothing I could do, no one was standing up for me and if I should retaliate I would go home with big cuts in my skin and it would make mum worried.

Throughout the day at school I made sure I did not speak to anyone so I won't get misunderstood again. Immediately the closing bell rang I hurriedly packed my bag and rushed home.

The next morning, I awoke with a leaden heart. I did not want to go to school but I had to. After my prayers, I meticulously dressed my bed and penned my to-do list. I brought out a pen and a biro I had planned to start using the day before. I thought to myself this will make me outline everything that I want to do in school in a day, and whenever I go against my list I would go back home and check whatever I did wrong, this will help me know when I'm being wrong and when I'm not. I took my paper and started writing, the paper, stained with my tear marks, as I couldn't take it anymore that day, the only thing I could write on the paper was "'Do not talk to anybody today.'' I couldn't bear the weight of another day filled with false smiles and shallow smiles. Skipping breakfast, I left for school because I was running late , skipping the assembly and escaping from the punishment, as the bell rang, I slipped into the classroom, choosing a seat by the window to find comfort in the world outside. I took a few deep breaths and then I got ready for the day. I made sure my gaze was fixated on the horizon, I didn't want to make eye contact with anyone or smile at anyone, in the process I fought back tears, I braced myself up for what lay ahead, I did not want to appear weak at their front so I tried really hard just to hold my tears.

'What's up, good morning, ' someone greeted, a genuine smile adorning their face. I wanted to respond, to let the warmth of connection in, but I remembered what I had written in my to-do-list. I just shook my hand and moved my face away. Then came another voice, softer, concerned.

'Is anything wrong? Why are you sad?' She queried, My eyes met her's recognizing the pretense In her voice, I just looked at her and turned my face away. Some minutes after the bell rang signalling the start of the first period, granting me temporary reprieve from the classroom's stifling atmosphere. I excused myself, retreating the restroom, where I let the tears flow freely. I had no other refuge, or anyone to cry to so I sat on the closet and just let the tears I had been holding flow.

After crying, I washed my face and wiped every bit of tears off my face then I walked slowly back to my classroom, while walking I couldn't help but think "Do they think I'm naive?'' I wondered, my gaze fixed on them. Well it is only natural though, I thought , it was only natural I feel this way, my personality made everyone abandon me. As the second-to-last bell rang, the school fell into an uneasy silence. Juniors spilled into the classroom, their laughter mingling with the weight of my isolation. Some stared at me with a disgusting look, "Why did they look at me with such disdain?" "What had I done to earn their scorn?" 'Are my classmates talking behind my back with the juniors again?" Those thoughts kept rushing through my head and I just be amen restless. Suddenly, a scuffle erupted. It was my peers against another class, they were both in heated argument on the verge of beating each other , no teachers were in sight at that time, I didn't want to stand up and break my daily to-do-list routine but I thought I couldn't stand idly by. ''I must help them,'', I can use this time to show them that I'm really a good person" I thought, pushing past the invisible barriers in my to-do-list I had constructed, I rushed into the fray, I called my friends to my side, hurling verbal defenses at the other side, without even caring to know what had transpired between them. They retaliated with harsh words, but I remained resolute. I was fighting for my people and that felt cool for a bit.

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