Pit of mess

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
So you are in a new school where no one knows you, trying to make a fresh start. But can you, really?

Submitted: May 01, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 01, 2017



Hey there.
I normally just stop at hey but it seems a little hanging, no? And I don't really have a name for you either. That would be too girly. I'm only doing this cause Lydia suggested it, and she's a nice person. I've been much of a disappointment lately and I just don't want to let her down, okay? Plus its the first day of school and I have no idea what to do but I don't want to look like an idiot so I might as well write. I'm hunched up at the back corner of the class where there are no windows. It's easier to disappear in the madness like this. It's 9.54 on the dot. The lecturer was supposed to be here at 9. I don't think he/she is coming. Rude, just rude.
I instantly decide that I don't like my classmates. They are chattering away in groups of twos and threes like they've known each other their entire lives. I've never been able to that. You know, make friends. Even before the Great Depression. It's awfully awkward, you know? Cause after saying my name, where do I go from there? I have no siblings because my parents could never stand each other? That I live in the same house as my mother but only ever talk to her like once in a month? How do I even explain why I'm always wearing long sleeved shirts? That's not the kind of stuff you tell someone you've just met. And it's all I have to tell.
I'm in a pit of mess.
And I don't need saving.
Honestly, I don't need saving. You get used to the emptiness. So it's no good to constantly be told that "its all over" and "its going to be okay now". Because its not okay. It will n.e.v.e.r. be okay. But slap on a few fake smiles, lie about feeling better, those things work miracles. The kind of miracles that get you a discharge. Well, I still have to do school, that's what the judge said. But I can handle it, its just school. Right?
My name is Joseph. My name is Joseph Tali Jr. Most people just call me J.R. I hate it, but it beats Joseph or Tali a million times. Cause those aren't my names. Just some hand-me-downs that I'm kinda stuck with now. I'm 19 years old. Legally an adult, but still a teenager. Works for me. Still gets me the sympathy card. I have no idea what I'll do when I outgrow it. I'm studying film production and theatre arts. Seemed like the only course where I wouldn't have a bunch of baldies who death clearly forgot to pick up around me all day. I've had a number of those already.
My name is Joseph Tali J.R., I'm 19 years old, and I'm studying film production and theatre arts. That's all anyone needs to know about me. This is a new school, a new place, and new beginning for me. A chance to leave it all behind, if I could that is. I'll just show up, write what they need me to write, do what they need me to do, fake a few more smiles and do it over and over again till its over. I can do this. I can do this.
The laughter and chatter in class gradually died down and a few people click saying the lecturer wasted their time. Bruh, we a bunch of young adults who just cleared high school. We all know you have  nothing better to do than binge watch Game of Thrones or whatever it is that all the kids are watching these days. A round, spectacled girl looks back and its like she notices me for the first time. She has the potential to be cute if only she didn't wear a colour as ugly as red and walk with her back slightly bent. Wait is she coming this way? Oh crap. She's saying hi. I can't do this.

First day of school today!!! I know that I'm an adult now and I should be cool and calm and composed about these things but I can't be, okay? Six years in an all girls boarding school does things to you. I decided that I will not look like an idiot. I will smile and giggle and and make friends and leave this shyness behind. I'm surprisingly good at this, even though I have to admit its sort of tiresome. It's not really me to be turned on all day, eeerday. But I'm sure once this initial needing-to-make-an-impression phase is over, people will be less hyper. I'm still people-profiling, you know, figuring out the ones who are friend material. Cynthia. She looks classy. She'd probably be more likeable if she didn't look so fake under all those layers of make up and those talons she calls nails. She's actually really sweet, but the guys think she's snobbish and are betting to see ataingia box ya nani. I don't know what to feel about her yet. Wango. She knows everything about everything. She'll critique your every word and say she knows for a fact that she's right cause she knows someone, who knows another someone, who knows someone who has inside information that Bahati is indeed dating that light-skinned Tanzanian chick. Oh I don't like her.
Then my goodness there's Biko. Total eye candy!!! He must be rich, he surely dresses the part. His phone speaks volumes too, iPhone 6 plus si mchezo! He may or may not be some spoilt narcissistic brat but who cares? He's totally cute.
I don't know what I'm going to do. All the nice clothes I have, I would have worn them by the end of the week. And mamii just bought them. I can't ask for money. Maybe I'll look for work at an m-pesa or a cyber or something. I don't need that much really, maybe just a punch. That should get a sizeable number of tops. Who cares about trousers? No one will notice. Then when I get more money I need to do something about my shoes. I only have one pair.
Oh, and I almost forgot. There's this other guy. Joseph, I think. I could barely hear his mumbling. After a third time of saying ati? I just gave up and nodded like I knew what he was saying. I'm sorry to say but he looks like some sort of loser. I mean the whole time he didn't talk to anyone, pretended to scroll through his phone then actually started writing. Like who does that on day one? We haven't even started learning yet. And he was wearing long sleeves when its freaking 32 degrees outside. Weirdo. I only talked to him cause I felt sorry for him. Its like he knows nothing about anything and his looks aren't doing too good for him either. Yeah I need to stay away from him. Loner types like him tend to be hella clingy and in all honesty he'll ruin my street cred.

Zhaney. What kind of name is that? It sounds exotic, South African maybe. Or like the princess of some lost tribe in the middle of the forest where there is a very grand and magnificent waterfall. Zhaney. I think I like her. I mean, she can be my friend... or something. This is what I planned to do for the next for years. Basically stay in the shadows, speak when spoken to, raise my head once in a while to see if people were still screwing each other, then go back to my shell. That's pretty much all I've been doing all my life. . I'm used to just being ignored, you know... that kid who's so messed up people just avoid me. But then Zhaney actually noticed me. She is quite interesting. She watches silent movies, sang for me the pokomo song our national anthem borrows its tune from, and didn't patronize me for being so quiet. Plus she likes history. She likes history!
Lydiah called me today. I do get that she's genuinely concerned for me, but I like to pretend that my life is normal. And the fact that I have to see a therapist every two weeks is nothing close to normal. I don't even know why she bothers. Its her job I guess. I'm scared that I'll break her one day. Cause I know that she's knows its not her fault that I'm this broken but I haven't made a single improvement in the two years we've been together. Okay next appointment I promise I'll smile. Tell her I talked to mom. That should be good, right?

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