Just Write

Just Write.
The day my life changed. The day when something so obvious became apparent to me. It all started off with me looking for a piece of paper to write on. Mum is constantly trying to save money because her florist business is 'secretly' going down the drain, so there is never anything for me to write on. I was looking through some drawers in mum and dads office when I stumbled upon a file with my name on it. Of course I had to look at it – It was practically addressed to me! Inside I found some documents stating I had Asbergers Syndrome. Why hadn't I realised it before? All those docters appointments which were more like counselling sessions... All those people smiling at me fakely...Star stared at the sun as she lay in the overgrown grass of Mt. Lipton. She picked up her thick pad of refill and jotted down some notes on the sunrise. Star planned to be an author when she was older - she had her life planned out, a road in front of her ready to follow. She already had 2½ manuscripts at home ready to send to Little Island Press, a New Zealand publisher in the heart of Auckland. She planned to illustrate her own books, which would be novels, short stories and childrens tales. Star tumbled down the hill, turning through the soft grass. The hill was Stars favourite place to be. Her ideas ran wild, lifting Star off her feet and into the realms of her imagination. No one was there to stop her, or make fun of her or her name. There was just her and the hill and the dandelions. At school there were 754 people to look at her strangely and judge her by her cover. So what if Star had Asbergers Syndrome - It still meant she was a human being, but this didn't worry her. Writing is more reliable than a bunch of friends.
Once Star got home she bundled her paper, pen, disposable camera and a chicken cranberry panini into her drawstring bag and headed off to school. Because Star was an early riser the streets were deserted and Star was free to take snapshots of Autumn trees, shedding their fiery orange leaves and dancing in the wind. As soon as Star reached the front gate of Lipton High she fumbled through her pocket searching for the unmistakable pink timetable. She carefully peeled the timetable apart, which was torn in the middle and reminded Star of thin feather paper. ENGLISH, RM.72 read the printed box, ink trailing like tears from yesterdays rain shower.
When the school bell sounded, Star was prepared for her lesson of Creative writing. She had her pencil case out and her english folder opened to the correct page. Star couldn't help staying still, she had to be on the go, or achieving something so she gave the occasional flick of her hair and tap of her pen. Mrs. Kaatachi walked in, her blue dress waving and her head held like an elegant swan. Her hair was flowing free, waving Hello to Star and her class. Everywhere Star looked there was inspiration, a story to be told.
At the end of the inspiring lesson Star handed in her essay on Family violence, which was due in the following week. Mrs. Kaatachi smiled at Star, her eyes sparkling and reflecting Stars plain face. Why couldn't she be as elegant and confident as Mrs. Kaatachi? Or as bold and beautiful as the schools head girl, Sandra Allice? Star was just a girl with a dream and a name everyone made fun of. "Girls and boys! Look at this! Let Star be a rolemodel for all of you! Star has handed in her Research essay a week early! Lets give her a round of applause..." said Mrs. Kaatachis soft, creamy voice. The words echoed and the class grew silent, a few feeble claps were attempted, but finished just as soon as they had started. The atmosphere of the room was silent and awkward. What a relief it was when the end of period bell rang. Mrs. Kaatachi gave a comforting smile as Star hurriedly made her way to the next lesson. She knew Mrs. Kaatachi was just trying to be nice. But why should there be a reason for her to comfort Star? It wasn't fair.
"Ha Ha. Lets give Star a round of applause shall we?" said Linda Morgan in a mocking tone. Instead of well deserved applause, Star was given a few shoves and a few more rude remarks. Everyone seemed to swarm around her, trying to get a dig at her. "Oh Star, you shine so brightly in the night sky! What a loner, Yeah, she has like, literally no friends". The comments were like salt on open wounds, each remark adding more bitter sorrow to Star. "She's just so odd, you hear that Star? You're odd!" A single tear came to Stars eyes. Star wasn't meant to care, it was in the medical description she'd seen in the Docters letter. But Star couldn't help it. It was too much to handle sometimes. She had to escape it all.
Star somehow plodded through the day. The comments echoing and growing more painful by the minute. As soon as Star got home, she slammed her bedroom door shut and grabbed out her pen and paper and began to write ... about dancing dandelions and realities beyond logic.

By Eva Wyles