A Memory

(This is a true story.)

I remember the first time I felt like killing myself.

I remember it all. I remember showing up unannounced in the middle of the first week of secondary school, a twelve year old yanked from one new place to another, every girl in class staring me down like a stranger, an alien. I remember checking my hand-me-down mobile phone underneath the desk, searching for reassurance as I trembled alone at the back of the class,  the one odd in columns and columns of evens, not knowing who I could turn to. I remember not knowing if anyone wanted me there in the first place. I remember the girl at the neighboring desk shot me an angry glare and snapped at me to stop. I complied.

I remember I wanted to cry.

I remember fucking up in English class in the second week by forgetting my homework. I remember apologizing to the teacher and saying I would stay back after class to do it. I remember her saying she didn’t care if I did. I remember her telling me to see her after school.

I remember walking back to the classroom after the bell rang, shaking like a leaf. I remember her beady eyes and condescending stare. I remember her asking me what was wrong with me. I remember her impatient scowl, her restlessly twitching leg, her beady, beady eyes as she leant back in her chair and looked at me. I remember her telling me I had an attitude problem. I remember her yelling at me that I had an attitude problem. I remember her asking me which primary school I came from. I remember the smirk on her face when I gave my response, I remember her spitting at me that it was no wonder I couldn’t get into the top secondary school and ended up here. I remember her telling me I had an attitude problem. I don’t remember what happened afterwards because my vision was blurry. I think I remember her getting up and leaving.

I remember the classroom was dark. I remember the fans were off and the air was still. I remember packing my bag. I remember thinking that I couldn’t feel my hands and feet.

I remember crying in the toilet for an hour.

I remember a girl seeing me emerge from the toilet with bloodshot eyes. I remember her asking me if I was okay. I remember saying that I was fine. I remember walking away sniffing. I remember letting a few rogue tears escape.

I remember fucking up again in English class. I remember my presentation partner telling the teacher that I didn’t do any work. I remember that I couldn’t do any because my partner did everything and had left nothing for me to do. I remember not saying anything because I didn’t know what to say. I remember the teacher announcing it to the entire class. I remember her telling me to do another presentation alone. I remember I was the only one who had to present alone. I remember doing the presentation a week later. I remember wanting to cry as I was doing it. I remember the class looking at me cold eyes.

I remember no one wanting to include me in their group for a Geography project. I remember not wanting to ask, anyway. I remembered the class looking at me with cold eyes. I remember saying I was in some other person’s group when the teacher asked about it when the project was done. I remember feeling guilty. I remember getting away with it. I remember secretly feeling relieved.

I remember my parents being called for a meeting with my teachers. I remember my dad asking me when he got home, “is it true you have no friends in class?” I remember the look of astonishment he had on his face. I don’t remember what I said in response. I remember feeling like a disappointment.

I remember wanting to die rather than go back to school over the summer holiday. I don’t remember what I actually did.

I remember the first day of the second semester. I remember my form teacher finally moving someone I could call a friend to the back so she could sit with me. I remember talking to her about Vampire Knight. I remember her introducing me to her friends outside of class. I remember having fun. I remember feeling accepted.

I still remember that bitch telling me I had an attitude problem.

I remember seeing her ugly face as I was studying for the national exams, three years later. I remember hearing her filthy words as I pored over my books. I remember tears threatening to fill my eyes and the plunge in my stomach whenever I thought about it. I remember telling myself that I had an attitude problem, but it didn’t fucking matter.

I remember getting a perfect score for the exams.

I remember seeing my name up on the notice boards in school. I remember being seventh on the list of top scorers. I remember the list was in Monotype Corsiva.

I remember wondering if she ever saw my name, or if she even remembered me, as I stared at the laminated yellow paper held in place by colored push pins on green felt.

I remember telling myself that it didn’t matter.

I remember that I had won.


4 thoughts on “A Memory

  1. This is very interesting and I’m happy you were able to get through all of those hard times. I have a post on cyberbullying, would you mind checking it out? 🙂


    1. Hey, just wanted to drop by and say you are amazing at writing. It is literally crack for someone who has somewhat studied English and it’s literature. I also want to say that I love the way you think. I’m jealous (but for some reason, not in a bad way) how you can convey your thoughts so well.

      I am also a person who is depressed and have recently had an inappropriate mental breakdown in the middle of a class and thought about suicide, but after coming across your blog because of your analysis on Girl by Daoko, I think… I think I will keep living in order to meet people like you.

      You said in another post (don’t quote me on this though) that there was nothing good you could see about yourself, and to be honest I can’t say there is because I’ve never met you, but to me, you are extremely relatable.

      One last thing I have to say is I guess this is our punishment as creative human beings. Us and our overthinking.

      Liked by 2 people

  2. Omg. I don’t know what to say, thank you so much! This made my day I’m just so grateful that someone understood my posts and was helped in some way. That’s like my biggest goal and wow I don’t know I really really appreciate your opinion. Just remember that you are more than your depression and life is in phases, this phase might just not be as good as the rest.


    1. Wait I’m really sorry. I meant for that comment to be for the owner of this blog. I accidentally clicked the wrong reply button. But whoever you are, I bet you’re just as wonderful!!! 🙂


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