0011

renisha_g

Singapore

"100"

February 16, 2016

 The classroom closed in on Kate as she peered down at the flimsy piece of paper set in front of her, wishing it could disappear. Staring longingly out of the window, she wished she could free it from its hinges and watch the monstrous sheet flutter gracefully away from her and into the unseeing world. Or better yet, she herself jumping from the window and swaying gently into the wind, as to escape the cruelty inflicted upon her. Unfortunately, that was impossible as the "menace" was her creative writing assignment that was due at the end of the period. Kate re-read the title for the 100th time, "Friendship Narrative," was displayed in big bold letters that seemed to wreck her mind.  Apparently the teacher either hated her or was oblivious to who she was. After all, it was an established fact that she Kate was the designated wallflower, before even time began.

        Kate continued staring at the paper, occasionally throwing murderous glares at it. So far, the most she could conjure up was the counselor in her school and her "special" companion back at home as her acquaintances. Whenever she had another episode of her depression overcoming her strength mentally, the counselor was there waiting to whisk her away form the prying eyes of others.  Helping rescue her, was the closest thing that she had ever experience to having a friendship. Yet, she had never talked to her personally and only trusted her to a limited amount. On the other hand, Charybdis, her companion left at home, was the only one she could place her whole trust in. Charybdis was distracting, but could be blunt at the same time and was stolen from her guardian's cup board one late night. With his ever-glistening hands, he would show her different perspectives of deranged realities that would appeal to her. And yet, without uttering a word, he always managed to chase away the voices tormenting her daily just with the slightest movement across her hand. Kate could always appreciate his soothing presence as she decorated herself with 100 different marking every day and would always appreciate the day she found him 99 days ago. 

       Caught up in the pandemonium of her whirling thoughts, Kate had hardly noticed the roll of paper that hit her hidden nose under the curtain of her long black hair. She cautiously picked up the paper and unrolled it, already anticipating what its content held. "What's caught up in that lunatic brain of yours, huh? Thinking about more ways to kill yourself, you insane freak!" it read. Kate sighed, slowly lifting her hands up, she cradled them to her head, only to realize the sleeves of her sweater were drooping down her slender arms. She hurriedly yanked them over hands, but managed to catch a glimpse of the repulsive decorations carved into her skin before hiding them away. Ignoring them, Kate could not stop staring at the treacherous words from the paper, but soon stopped to count to 100 as to stop another episode from occurring. Yet, all she could see in her mind was the word, 'insane,' as she tried to decipher if it was a compliment or a wasted word that disappeared with the wind.​       

        Insane. It was a word not unfamiliar to her. Ever since a rumour about her mental condition was unleashed, the word had spread like a wildfire. Since then, Kate had contemplated on whether it should be taken positively. Eventually she did, only to blame her depression and insecurities on the reason that she was insane. To Kate, being insane felt as though she was standing on the sidelines, while she judged "sane" people accomplish what they perceived as "mundane" activities. Even though it was meant to be taken negatively, her theory corresponded with how the world operated. Just one judges another, who is more superior to judge sanity than the insane?

        Kate managed to breakout of her chain of thoughts, turned towards the direction of the clock, and saw that she had thirty minutes left to complete her assignment. She hastily placed her pencil on her paper and scribbled out a superficial narrative on a girl whose best friend had died. After staring out the window for a while, the school bell finally rang and Kate was spared from any further torment. She sprang out of her sit, ready to flee away form the world and back to the bewitching arms of her Charybdis. Little did anyone know, this would be the last appearance Kate would ever offer the world again. Furthermore, as she was enduring the excruciating 100 minutes of warm liquid pooling around her, she could only dwell on one last thing during the last 100 seconds. It was of how much she would have given just for a 100 seconds of experiencing the gift of friendship. Just.100.

100 slices,
100 different places.
100 minutes,
and in the last 100 seconds,
on the 100th day,
All she could think about was the experience of a 100.
Just. 100. 

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