Loner (3)

This a story about racism I wrote when I was 14 years old.

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Chapter 3

I woke up in the morning four days later and immediately ran into the toilet to throw up. I felt terrible. I was my first day in a new school in a whole other country. Plus, I was just starting highschool. Woe is me.

I looked at myself in the mirror and noticed some bags forming under my eyes. I sighed, splashed some water on my face, brushed my teeth and started to dress up for school. I hardly slept in the night. I had many nightmares, and always woke up jerkily after each one. I think I got out of bed four times just to make sure that I had everything ready and that nothing had mysteriously disappeared; clothes, accessories, books and school shoes. I looked through every single item one more time and, happy that everything seemed to be in order, dressed up.

I finally went down to have breakfast after another two emergency trips to the toilet. I slouched down in my chair and started at the bowl of cereal infront of me, whatever left of last night's dinner threatening to come up. I tried to concentrate on something else, looking around our newly decorated kitchen.

The last three days have been very busy. We went to the local mall and spent an entire day looking through all the shops, especially the furniture one. I have chosen the color green as the theme for my new bedroom and so far managed to replace the brown curtains with pale green ones, in addition to purchasing lime green wall paper (which I am yet to cover my walls with). I also bought appropriate clothing, as winter was looming close and all I had with me were light summer clothes.

I was considering purchasing more furniture to fill in all the empty corners of my bedroom, when the entrance of my brother, whom I noticed had a very off glum expression on his face, interrupted my thoughts.

"Geez" I thought to myself "Why won't he just lighten up a bit?"

Both of our parents accompanied us as it was our first day in a brand new school. The headmaster, Mr. Carter, welcomes us graciously, with as many a bow, a wave and a smile that I was beginning to think that he must have mistaken us for the royal family. He took us on a short tour around the school, showing us all the trophies and awards the school has won in its past 23 years.

We took Hammed first to his class. the classroom sounded very noisy from the outside, but once Mr. Carter namged the door open all turned silent. A rather shaken dark haired lady greeted us, Hammed's homeroom teacher. She beckoned him into the classroom with an encouraging smile. Hammed looked rather pale and was chewing his bottom lip nervously as he entered the classroom. I heard him mutter under his breath "Be cool like a fish in a pool".

I smiled. This was one of the mottoes my father lived by and always used it whenever my mother or I were panicking. I tried to get a glance of the students but my parent's large bodies blocked it from sight. My mother was waving and blowing kisses frantically at Hammed. Mr. Carter finally shut the door after a few words to the students about welcoming newcomers. I managed to catch a glimpse of Hammed through the classroom door's glass window. His face was buried in his left hand and the tops of his ears were red. Poor guy, my parents made a real show of embarrassing him.

I was grinning while we walked through the school, thinking about how humiliated my brother must be feeling, when we suddenly came to a halt. I looked around my parent's back to see what was the hold up.

Suddenly, a jolt went though my body and I came crashing down to earth with a sinking feeling in the pit of stomach. I felt sick and wanted to throw up again.