I’m Emma and I’m not a big fan of school as well as not very good at it either. I have a condition called dyslexia. I hate it, it makes me feel dumb. My friends are normal and I just wish I was like them. My mom always tells me I’m “unique” for what I have. But what’s so unique about it? It just makes me look and feel so different from everyone else and feel like I’m so awful at everything.

It’s close to the end of the school year, 2nd grade, April 21st, 2017. I wake up for another school morning as usual, except I don’t feel like going. I’ve been so tired of school lately, I don’t have very many friends, and schoolwork has been getting more frustrating and harder to finish. My mom would never let me skip so I have to go. I got up out of my bed and felt the cold breeze of my fan blowing. whooshhhh. I sat down in front of my mirror and started getting ready.

“Emma! It’s time to go to school!” My mom shouted.

“Coming!” I replied.

 I was ready to go through another day of my dreadful school once again. 

My mom drove me to school.

We arrived, and I took a deep breath while getting out of the car. Walked slowly while slouching into the school. I arrived late to school today so I had to walk into my class by myself in front of the entire class. I don’t know why but I just think it’s embarrassing. I walked down the hall and took a big sigh before I walked into class, leisurely opening the door. Once I strutted through the door I smelt fresh crisp books waiting on the wall for me to open, hoping all those books weren't for us. I walked to my seat and sat down. 

“Good morning Emma, why were you late today?” The teacher asked.

“Good morning Miss, I just woke up a little later than usual, sorry about that,” I responded.

“No problem, just try not doing that again. Anyways class let’s start by opening our reading books and start our lesson,” The teacher implied.

I opened my book to page 40, my thin pages full of words I barely understood.

“Ok class, who would like to read chapter 9? That will be a total of about 6 pages,”  My teacher mentioned. 

I looked around the room, everyone with their hands up. Everyone but me. Suddenly my teacher called my name.

“Emma, how about you read it,” the teacher suggested. 

No, no, no I thought. I can’t do this, I hate reading, I suck at it, I suck at everything… 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” I sighed.

“You never participate in anything, just for once do something in my class,” the teacher claimed. 

I’ve never heard my teacher say something so direct to me. My heart dropped, was I really such a bad student for that? I always try my hardest but it seems like I’m never good enough for anyone, absolutely no one. 

“Fine,” I muttered under my breath.

I started reading, it started off fine. What I mean by it started fine, I mean the first sentence. After one sentence to another, they just progressively got harder and harder. I struggled a lot, I stuttered and sounded out words, and I couldn’t even read one sentence right, except the first sentence. My hands were sweating like I was in the desert. Legs shaking more and more. All of a sudden I hear a giggle, another and another. Everyone started laughing, laughing at me. My whole body sank to the ground. My eyes began to water like a water fountain. I tried wiping my tears but they just kept coming, I began to break down. I ran out of the class with many tears rolling down my cheeks, my nose all stuffed, and barely breathing. I’ve never cried so hard before, I was holding all this sorrow and fear since the second I walked into this school all from the start. I ran inside the bathroom, hid in a stall, and just hoped the school day would end right there at that moment, right now. Suddenly I hear footsteps getting continuously louder, I hear someone walk through the door. I tried to be as silent as I could, I didn’t want anyone to hear me. Suddenly I hear a generous timid voice speak.

“Hello, is anyone here?” She asked 

I said nothing, but she still proceeded to ask.

“Anyone here? If there is, I would like to talk, please just come out,” she sighs worriedly 

She kept asking me to go out of the stall, she knew I was there. But why was she trying so hard? Was someone being nice to me for once? Was there someone out there who cared for me? Nah I’m probably overreacting, no one at my school enjoys being my friend. None of them are REAL friends, just some judgemental kids. I honestly didn’t care at that moment if the person out there really cared or not. I was already heartbroken, there was nothing worse than what I just experienced so I decided to finally reply after she had asked about 100 times.