"Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness! Alek, I am going to kill you!" I gasped in a whirlwind of panic. This marked the third time this month he had messed with my alarm clock, and now I had only 10 minutes to get to school.
With haste, I scurried to the bathroom, vigorously brushed my teeth and my hair, and put on my uniform. As I emerged from the bathroom, a sinking realization struck me-I had no time for breakfast. In a frenzy of desperation, I hastily gathered the buns that Alek had carelessly left on the table, a small offering of solace in the chaos.
Oh, but fate has a twisted sense of humour.
The morning had been clear, with the sun's radiant rays promising a tranquil day. But, in a capricious twist, the heavens conspired against me. As I stepped onto the sidewalk, a gentle drizzle began to fall, its fine droplets shimmering like liquid diamonds in the golden morning sunlight.
It was as if the world itself had decided to mock my misfortune, raining down a mocking chorus of laughter from the heavens.
With resolve forged in the crucible of desperation, I made a snap decision. I started to run. Each drop kissed my skin like nature's gentle caress. The scent of rain-soaked soil filled the air, a nostalgic aroma that transported me back to countless childhood memories.
Yet, amidst the tranquil chaos of the rain, all I could think about was how I would get back at my mischievous brother for these morning antics.
I knew I was late, but today, time had lost its grip on my conscience. The prospect of facing the teacher's reprimand held little weight; after all, who would they call? My family's phone had been silenced by life's cruel fate, leaving me with just Alek, a mere two grades ahead. The thought of him receiving that call was enough to conjure an image of his uncontrollable laughter.
The school loomed ahead, its imposing gates barring my way like sentinels guarding a citadel. I couldn't bear to face the teacher on duty again. With a surge of desperation, I spotted a slightly lower section of the fence and vaulted over it.
Inside the school grounds, I moved like a phantom, tiptoeing past the classrooms as if the very air were watching. My luck held as I approached my class; there was no teacher in sight. Relief coursed through me, a brief respite in this day of turmoil.
As I slid into my seat, my heart rate finally slowing, a voice cut through the muted hum of the classroom.
"Zara?"
I turned, and there she was, my best friend Marina. Her concerned eyes locked onto my drenched appearance. "What happened? Why are you soaked?
"Alek happened." I replied, retrieving my books from my bag and praying none had fallen victim to the rain's mischief.
"Again?" She said. "Sometimes I wonder how I still find him cute when he's so mean to my baby," she pouted, wrapping her arms around me in a protective embrace.
Marina and I had known each other since the tender age of eight. It wasn't a picturesque beginning for our friendship. No, it began in a clash over a slide, with two stubborn kids locking horns. But destiny, or perhaps sheer irony, had different plans for us. We transformed our rivalry into a bond when I defended her from Masha, the feisty and slightly older girl who often picked on her.
Marina, in my eyes, was nothing short of a radiant soul. Beneath her kindness, there lay a captivating beauty that, despite her insecurities, was undeniable.
She came from a family of wealth and privilege. Her father was a respected doctor, and her mothera shrewd manager of their vast property holdings. This provided her with a life most could only dream of.
While we ran to school, Marina enjoyed the luxury of being chauffeured there, shielded from the daily hustle and bustle of commuting. And being an only child, she enjoyed the undivided attention of her parents, who pampered her and readily granted her every desire.
You would think coming from such a background would make her arrogant or selfish. But no, she was the kindest, most loving person you'd ever come across.
A kindness most mistook for weakness.
And yet, for all her endearing qualities, Marina had one undeniable flaw—her obsession with my brother, Alek.
I know he is my brother, and we might look identical from some angles, but no. What does she find so appealing about him? In addition to being excessively annoying, he chews very loudly and isn't as cute and as charming as Aarav from 12A.
"He probably didn't know it was going to rain; don't be too hard on him," Marina reasoned, her voice a soothing balm as she continued to gently dry my hair. Despite her empathy, her plea fell on deaf ears. I knew, deep down, that she was bound to defend Alek.
She always does.
My attention, however, remained fixated on plotting subtle forms of vengeance, ones that left no trace. All the while, I silently thanked the powers that be for my recent decision to cut my hair shorter; otherwise, I would have been wrestling with tangled locs for the better part of the day.
The first two lessons dragged on, the minutes feeling like hours as my irritation simmered beneath the surface. Finally, the bell rang, signaling the much awaited break. Without hesitation, I darted from the classroom, a streak of crimson anger propelling me forward.
I stormed into Alek's classroom, my fury unabated. There he was. Perched on that chair like a confused gorilla. Laughing uproariously with his friends.
Nothing is ever that funny.
My plan had been to catch him off guard, but as I approached, it became evident that he had already sensed the storm brewing. He swiftly rose from his seat, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and started to make a hasty retreat.
Determined, I pursued him, my voice reverberating through the hallways as I screamed his name. Our impromptu race sent us careening through the corridors. Alek's laughter was a stark contrast to my fiery frustration. But just as we were about to turn the corner, our sprint abruptly came to a halt. There, like a harbinger of doom, stood Mr. Tantrum, the stern science teacher who hated my guts.
Our footsteps slowed, and our heads hung in a submissive posture. Mr. Tantrum wasn't alone; he was escorting a seemingly new student whose face was entirely unfamiliar to me.
His displeasure was palpable as he directed his stern gaze my way. "What on earth are you doing, young lady?" he chided, his tone dripping with disapproval. "Chasing your brother through the hallways like this? What if you bumped into other students and hurt them? What if your brother got hurt? What a troublemaker."
As Mr. Tantrum continued his reprimand, I couldn't help but notice the confusion on the new student's face as he watched the scene unfold. The poor soul had landed in the middle of an awkward sibling showdown.
After a moment of stern words, Mr. Tantrum turned his attention to the newcomer. "This is Zara," he said, introducing me in a tone that suggested he should take note. "She'll show you to class 10B."
Wait, that's my class.
"Zara, take him to class!" He sternly commanded. "And Alek, stop encouraging your sister's shenanigans. Go back to class!"
I followed the command, leading the newcomer to my classroom, but not before I shot Alek a deathly glare, silently conveying that this was far from over. In the ensuing silence, I led the way. The awkwardness of Mr. Tantrum's scolding still lingering in the air.
With hands casually tucked into his pockets, the new student exuded a quiet charm, his presence commanding attention without effort. He stood tall, his dark, curly hair framing a face adorned with captivating brown eyes. I could feel his eyes lingering over me but I avoided his gaze. They held a unique beauty, a depth that could easily ensnare one's attention. A confident aura surrounded him, accentuated by the curve of his caramel skin. A subtle smile played on his lips and for a second, I thought I heard him murmur something.
"Did you say something?" I asked.
"No," he answered, but then continued, "don't you want to know my name?"
I turned back with a warm smile. "Oh, my apologies; I should have asked earlier," I admitted. "I'm Zara."
"I'm Kai," he replied, offering his hand. "Nice to meet you, Zara."
I shook his hand with a friendly grin. "Likewise, Kai."
As we continued our stroll, I couldn't resist some small talk. "Did you recently move to town?" I inquired.
"Yes," he affirmed. "I live in MayBay Estate."
"No way! I exclaimed, my surprise evident. "That's where I live too!"
"I know." Kai nodded knowingly.
I furrowed my brow in bewilderment. "What do you mean you know? I asked.
He chuckled. "I saw you and your brother playing with water balloons the day we moved in."
A realization dawned on me. "Oh, so we're neighbors," I said, my astonishment slowly giving way to excitement.
Kai smiled, mirroring my enthusiasm. "I guess we are."
♡♡♡
"Adolescence is like a war—there are battles won, battles lost, and moments of peace in between. But in the end, it shapes who we become."
Zane was sixteen when he walked into class with a deep voice. Everyone was mesmerized. Girls and boys alike, from other streams, would gather just to hear this newfound "manly voice." It made me a little sad, knowing that his transition into manhood was met with admiration, while my own journey was anything but glamorous.
October 12, 1999.
I remember that day like it was yesterday. The morning was too beautiful—almost like the world had dressed up just for me. The trees swayed gently in the breeze, bathed in soft sunlight as a light drizzle fell. Maybe I should have known something was about to go wrong—how could a day so perfect not come with a twist?
It was the second lesson of the day. The classroom was silent except for the teacher's voice, steady and rhythmic as she taught. Everything felt normal—until I slightly shifted in my seat, and that's when I felt it—a sharp pain in my stomach and then, something wet beneath me. A strange chill ran down my spine. Slowly, I moved, just enough to glance down.
Red.
My heart lurched, panic rising in my chest like a wave threatening to pull me under. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening to me right now. I swallowed hard, shifting my weight to cover the stain. The room felt suddenly smaller, the teacher's voice muffled under the sound of my own heartbeat.
Of all days, Marina wasn't in school. The one person I could have openly confided in. What kind of cruel coincidence was this?
I didn't move an inch when break time came. Lunch too, I was motionless. I sat frozen, too scared to even breathe properly.
I thought I had gone unnoticed. But I hadn't.
Bera, our class prefect, had been watching. She walked over, her eyes filled with quiet curiosity. "Why aren't you going for lunch?" she asked.
I forced a weak smile. "I'm not hungry."
She didn't believe me. She insisted we go together. I told her to go ahead, that I'd follow. She hesitated but eventually nodded. "I'll be waiting."
I exhaled slowly, gathering my courage. I stood, tied my sweater around my waist, and grabbed a book, placing it over my chair as if that could somehow erase what had already happened.
I made my way to the cafeteria, pretending everything was fine. I picked up my lunch, ready to sneak back to class before anyone noticed. But as I reached the door, I glanced through the window—and my heart plummeted.
Bera was lifting the book.
The blood drained from my face. My stomach twisted painfully. She knew. She saw.
Panic took over.
The logical thing would have been to go to her—maybe she would have helped me. Maybe she would have understood. But instead, my body acted before my mind could catch up. My tray slipped from my hands, food scattering across the floor, and I bolted straight to the washroom. I locked the door, pressed my back against it, and squeezed my eyes shut. Embarrassment curled around me like a suffocating blanket.
She followed, knocking gently on the door, her voice soft but firm as she tried to coax me out. But I couldn't move—I was too scared, too mortified to face anyone.
Realizing I wasn't going to budge, she left. For a brief moment, I thought she had given up. But then, I heard footsteps returning, this time accompanied by a calm, reassuring voice. She had found a female teacher.
Before I knew it, more voices filled the space. First, the teacher. Then a student. Then another. Whispers spread, and soon, a small crowd had gathered outside the stall, murmuring, waiting, wondering.
I pressed my forehead against the door, my heart pounding, willing them all to disappear. The more they came, the smaller I felt.
They had to call Alek from his class to coax me out of the stall, and before long, the whole school knew.
For nearly a term, I was the center of whispered conversations and cruel jokes—until Alek put a stop to it. He fought anyone who dared to sneer or mock me. They tried to saddle me with the worst nickname a girl my age could imagine, but he made sure it never stuck.
What a way to begin my journey into womanhood.
I was the first one in my class to see my menstrual flow and that didn't help my situation either. Marina saw hers when she was 15, May at 16, Issa at 13 while I, at 11.
The weight of it all felt unbearable, like I had been exposed in the cruelest way possible. I wasn't ready to face it. I wasn't ready for any of it.
But life doesn't wait for you to be ready. It just happens.
Looking back now, I wonder why I was so afraid. Why was I ashamed of something so natural? But then again, when you're that young, everything feels bigger than it is. Everything feels like the end of the world and that's exactly what I felt that day.