Chapter Thirteen- Memories

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Tao's POV

I struggle to interact properly, at times. My head just gets fuzzy and I spit out an odd phrase. I claw myself out of the hazy mess and I'm left with the other person staring at me.

I hate the staring. It makes my hands itch and my spine shiver with anxiety.

I never know what I'd said. I try to save the conversation, but they walk away. They all have that look, they think I'm stupid; they think I'm crazy.

I'm left feeling hopeless.

Sometimes, when someone's talking to me- I don't understand what they're saying. I zone out, I get confused. They always get angry, upset that I didn't hear.

Mother says that's because I'm rude. 'You're a bad listener' she says. I try to improve, I really do. But people talk too fast and I'm left helpless, in a muddled sea of words.

Most of my childhood, I was alone. Even before the accident, kids found me weird- an oddity.

I guess I never quite understood people my age. I managed to befriend teachers and parents and dinner ladies, yet never the kids in my class.

They all seemed to focus on little things, like what so-so said to so-so about them. I didn't think it mattered, rumours are rumours.

And believing them can ruin lives.

In year five, word got around that I hated this one boy called Ben.

It wasn't true, I barely knew him.

He came up to me every break, he used to insult me at first- he called me so many words and got angry that I refused to retaliate.

Then, one day, he punched me in the face and pushed me into a patch of nettles on the school field.

I had a black eye the next day, only faint but still prominent on the pale expanse of my skin. Mother got worried but I told her not to-

'I fell over mummy, I'm okay- I promise'

'Okay sweetie; you know you can tell me anything right?'

'I know'

—It kept on happening. More kicks, more footballs to the face, more mindless insults.

It worsened every day. I stopped talking in class; I cried myself to sleep; I ate in the toilets at lunchtime.

He always found me, to give me my punishment.

Until one day it stopped.

Miss Clarke saw Ben punch me in the ribs and told my mum. I moved schools the next week and never saw him again.

As simple as that. Hindsight is a beautiful tragedy.

Secondary school was worse; I got picked on for my looks, my awkward personality and the fragility of my limbs.

I was awful at sports; a soft shake in my bones that had developed from birth.

Everyone seemed to grow up so fast; drinking, smoking, having sex.

All at age 15.

I had very few friends and eventually those left out of annoyance-

'You're such a twat Tao, why the fuck don't you want to go to the party?'

'I just don't want to drink. I want to be in control. I'm sorry'

'Well piss off then, leave us alone'

—I told my mother that I was gay, the situation knocked my confidence for days-

'Are you sure?'

'Yeah, I am. I'm gay mummy.'

'Well I guess we'll just have to deal with it'-

No words of encouragement. Just a disappointed sigh and a judgemental look.

Dad died and I struggled to talk to anyone...for ages. He was the only one that understood, the only one that wanted to understand.

I suppose I'll never be good at communicating; I don't mind.

But, for at least now, Matthias listens to me. He doesn't laugh when I stutter, or look disgusted when I get confused.

He helps me control my nerves; he's there to pitch in when I don't know what to say to someone.

He's different.

He accepts me as who I am.
Odds and ends,
Highs and lows,
Stutters and stumbles.

I know that must be difficult to do,
Yet he never makes a fuss.
He just holds me close,
And kisses my worries away
Saying, 'I don't mind baby,
Today's been such a good day'.

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