(Year 9)
CAMBIAMENTO DI FEDE
Let's recount the story of my childhood. How depressing~
Infer the day after my outrageous barging into the breakfast nook; in the middle of the night, as the last lick to my enraged parents. That somber day became the commemoration of a prime catastrophe;
- Acquisition of my contemporary "illness".
-Bad habit of being obtrusive.
My parents' reception to this conceptualized 'sickness' was an ailment itself. Apart from afflicting my stubborn conscious, their reaction was by many means edgier; as of a dismayed and confound discipline teacher, and not as legal guardians.
The adage 'out of sight out of mind' became the exchanged pleasantry of my parents and a renowned psychiatrist. "It's a shaggy-dog story, I must say..."
'Poor victims.'
'God has decided his ways.'
Were one of his intimate shamefaced remarks, which he subtly spoke during the short course of our consultation meetings.
He had also commonly remarked; "Her feelings are based on superstitions and her eyes perceive greater hallucinations. Give her this medicine. It was prescribed to one of my patients. A fanatical feller he was; scared the wits out of Milly."
With no other option at hand, my parents hearkened the request of this foolish, humdrum psychiatrist, and brought the medicine home. Who could've kenned this situation better than me?
"Stupid artifice/medicine." I knew it was plain water. It was only that a science laboratory wasn't procurable in our neck of the woods, or I would've heartily settled that the 'so-called medicine' was entire, in fact, a simple, stupid product of the psychiatrist, to make sure that his patients- and in my terms, victims/dummies weren't acting. WAS HE DUMB ENOUGH TO HAND OVER A BOTTLE OF SPARKLING WATER IN THE SHAPE OF AN ODD MEDICINE CONTAINER AND MAKE ME DRINK IT 2 TIMES A DAY?!
Of course, I wasn't as tongue-tied, or miraculously dumb like my parents. I always took the sour syrup in my mouth, and when the shore was clear and the sun concealed itself among the clouds; I was almost instantaneously assured my timings were right, with no nanny or parents in vision, I used to dislodge the medicine into the sink and flush it. Now that was fanatical for a young mind and all the uncommunicative secrets which had inhabited themselves in me.
A bit later, after being continuously probed by my skittish parents; the inopportune moment they seized the grasp of realization that I followed a similar pattern far and wide; by consistently running to the bathroom's commode, was when I forcefully disclosed that the sparkling water tasted "FuNkY!", so being the pre-eminent judge of all, I spit all the medicine prescribed to me.
"Mom and dad, it tastes funny! It tastes like water that has gone bad, not like how a medicine is supposed to taste! Believe me. I'm not lying!"
"...!"
To be completely candid, I think that was the last day I saw daylight without two nannies always surrounding me. Indeed, weird stalkers, they were.
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So here I was brabbling with all my extravagant, far-fetched strategies that had fallen away and shamed me. All this pursuit for what?
I was in my confinement with rugged dolls dispersed around my feet. Unmoved and aloof, with tight-lipped figures, and my sentiments becoming my new, intact residency.
I never canvassed why it was happening to me? Neither did my ménages or my dominion circumstances. I was invariably gutsy and assertive knowing I wasn't queasy, crooked, disordered or out of sorts. I was as marvelous as anyone could be!
Corrupt was this phase of my childhood, which customarily taunted;
"It's OKAY to NOT BE OKAY."
But who forenamed me as 'not okay'. I was definitely okay!!
. . . . . . .
After a long time,, I decided to sit on our front porch; where the trees swayed about me, and the sun glimmered, mocking my loneliness with its wicked brightness. My eyes searched desperately among the few poplars surrounding me; where was that benumbed toy?
"Come out, come out, wherever you are, Dolly."
I re-traced my footsteps, examining and scrutinizing each place laboriously. Until, I reached a pair of portentous shoes. Did someone walk with them on fire-and-brimstone?
"Why are your shoes so dirty?"