Why me? Another day of inevitable torment and there is nothing I can do about it.

“Have a good day, honey.” My mother chimes in sincerely with a huge smile then leans in to kiss my forehead. She doesn’t quite realize the bitterness that wells up inside me each morning she says farewell to me but I play my part well as a dutiful daughter should, living her illusion of what my days should be, and reply, “Thanks, mom. You know I will.”

I muster a smile and hug her back in hopes that she can feel the dread I bear each day, my plea for her to tell me to stay behind, play hooky, anything. The hope that there is something that she can feel through our physical contact always blooms and instantly when she beams her bright smile and let me go, waving goodbye.

Hesitantly, I close the Suburban door knowing the sheer weight of it will slam it shut no matter the distance or velocity. Its heaviness is akin to what I feel with my heart sinking down, down, down to the pit of my stomach as my anxiety builds; the last vestiges of my hope is gone with the slamming of the door. I hear the gears of the vehicle shift as mom lifts the e-break and my hope of her stopping for me is gone as I give one last fleeting glance through her rear view mirror, hoping any second she it would turn back around and fetch me.

…Shucks! No such luck.

The sun is starting to light up everything around me but not the shadiest part of the campus. I trudge through the dark covered corridors of Summerland High with both my head down, my eyes averted only to watch each foot step before the other, slowly moving me forward.

Thank goodness for muscle memory; my legs lead me straight to the field and through the threshold of the indoor pool enclosure. Phys. Ed first thing in the morning means, I get to have a bad start to my day no matter what. Having P.E. that early should be illegal, honestly. I should, at the very least, be awake for the torment that awaits me.

After I scan the area around the girls’ locker room and deem it safe, I scurry towards the narrow entrance where I stow away my bag, change in peace before class starts, and just hide. I don’t hate P.E. because of all the activities we need to do. In fact, I’m pretty jealous of everyone else able to participate as I’m left sitting on the sidelines looking on longingly. All account of my condition…

Also, certain people don’t make my situation any easier and having to deal with them usually makes my existence in high school beyond unbearable. There are certain people that make being physically here on campus worthwhile but sometimes, the bad days outweigh the good and I wish I could be home schooled.

Crossing the pool sidelines and bee lining to the entrance of the locker room, I hurry to get to safety. Just as the words ‘Girls’ etched in black on the top of the door’s threshold becomes visible, I give one last glance behind me to see if anyone is there as I extend my arm towards the door. I’m snapped back into reality when I feel, not the give of a swinging door come in contact with my hand, but fabric on an unmovable solid barrier. A shadowy figure steps in my path before I could even step foot in safe my haven and when I look at their face, I see an unpleasantly, smug grin on a familiar face.

“Mitzy-witzy! Just who I was looking for.” A silky smooth voice croons in feigned sweetness as he uses a sickening sing-song tone towards a ‘nickname’ he’s taken to calling me. He may look like a bulky version of the boy-next-door: with his charming smile, offering to open doors for others in an act of what seems like thoughtfulness, and volunteering enthusiastically. Don’t be fooled. He can easily turn the charm on or off on a whim just to get what he wants and he’s anything but nice. Brett “the Brat” Roberts’ favorite pass time is tormenting me because he can. I’ve had the misfortune of being his target for three horrible years - from the first day of our sophomore year, when he moved to Summerland High.

Most teachers think he’s a nice and outgoing guy but many of them don’t see the mean streak that he seems to reserve for me and a few of my friends. There are the rare occasions when he’s disciplined but Brett’s family is well off and their connections around town usually get him a detention at most. The worst of it is I can’t and haven’t been able to do anything about him and his little posse because, let’s face it, discipline in school does nothing but give you a slap on the wrist or isolates the bully for a day – thank god – but it doesn’t solve the problem. His parents could care less about how he treats the rest of us as long as he graduates. Once he’s out of detention, he’s back haunting the halls and his victims are left to sneak around hoping we don’t catch his eye.

“Gee, you seem to be in a hurry.” He taunts as he puffs his chest out in triumph for finding me so early in the morning. I have been trying to get up and arrive on campus earlier to avoid confrontations such as these. For the most part, I have been successful, but it seems my avoidance streak ends today.

“I just want to get through, Brett.” I try to sidestep him but he just moves a step over to block me yet again.

I hear deep, slow, chuckling come from around the bleachers. ‘Dumber’ and ‘Dumbest’ are not too far. Brett takes a step forward and I instinctively take one back, hoping to get away slowly. I collide with something or someone as solid as a wall. I slowly turn to look behind and I see Joe or ‘Dumber’ behind me. He is practically a bull dog with broad shoulders that make him walk sideways in doorways, his waist narrows down his body to very thick tree trunk-like bowed legs; not to mention his pleasant disposition and attitude.

Closing in on my right was who I refer to as ‘Dumbest’ and every day is a new testament as to why he lives up to my ‘nickname’ for him. Okay, I’m a bit hypocritical about giving them all a mean name but unlike Brett and his friends, I never called them by those names to their face; I save that for when I’m talking to my friends after they do something to earn it. Dumbest’s real name is Timothy or Tiny Tim as his chums call him, but I like to think it has to do with brain capacity or in reference to certain anatomic parts. He’s the ruthless, action type that would defend his friends, right or wrong, and throw punches before even bothering to ask questions – I do wonder if he has the capacity to ask thoughtful questions? He is practically Brett’s shadow and I would honestly like to know what he would do if Brett didn’t give him the okay to use the bathroom.

“So, it seems like you want to do some laps before class starts.” Brett leans down and stares at me in the eye, probably seeing that I am already getting anxious about what he’s insinuating.

“I’d…rather not.” And I stepped away from Bratty Brett and his goons.

“How about a warmup dive or better yet, why don’t we see if you have the right kind of swimsuit? Boys, why don’t we help her out?”

Brett had a malicious grin as he took a step a back and crosses his beefy arms over his puffed out chest, just waiting as his boys to come closer. That’s my cue to run. True to their nature, his dutiful lapdogs chase after me with tunnel vision on their prey. I don’t get too far before I feel a large tug on my bag by the sheer power of one bulky arm.

“Let me go!” I shout at the top of my lungs trying the best that I can to free myself but I am struggling in vain.

I feel another tug at my hooded jacket and someone throws my bag aside as I thrash around violently trying to loosen their vice-like grip on me. Suddenly, I jerk to my side and in a flurry of movement, I stumble to the ground out of their meaty grasps, trying to collect myself.

“Back off!” A familiar male voice shouts at them angrily. “What in the heck did you guys think you were doing?”

“We were jus’ having a bit of fun, Isaac, that all.” Brett lifts his hands up, palms out as though he is the innocent party here. “Nothin’ to get all worked up over.”

I get up hesitantly, backing away from Dumber and Dumbest but next thing I know, Joe is rushing towards me, making sure I don’t escape but he, unfortunately, lives up to his nickname once again by his next action. I don’t have enough time to react when he trips on my bag barreling full speed in my direction and inadvertently shoves me backwards with such force, I thought I broke something upon impact with the water.

Suddenly, coldness surrounds and shocks me and my world is now turned upside down and I can’t quite tell what up from down is. I inhale out of reflex, swallowing and choking on chlorinated water, gasping for the lost air from my lips a few seconds before. Water is now going up my nose and it burns and all I can do is flail about desperately.

I can’t breathe! Which way is up? My chest…it’s sore…I need to surface, I need air!

Suddenly, a pair of strong arms wrap about my midsection and I feel a pull at the waist. I thrash about wildly trying escape from my liquid confinement, from feeling trapped. When we finally surface and I drink in the air I was moments ago deprived of suddenly feeling tired but the shock was still coursing through my system. I try desperately to get away and thrashed wildly to catch my breath.

“Easy, easy, Mitzy, it’s me.” A calm voice soothed me. “Don’t worry, I’ve got ya.”

I stop struggling and try to catch my breath and let myself being towed as my limbs feel too heavy to move. Isaac pulls me toward the ladder, making sure I am holding on to it as he climbs up and when he made it to the top, he offers his hand to assist me up towards the pool’s side. Once upon solid ground, I lay prone for a few moments before I can roll on my back with my hand over my rapidly beating heart trying to keep it from bursting through my chest. I need to calm down. I need to slow my heartbeats down before I have another episode with my heart but I keep on thinking my chest is tightening and I can’t stop from feeling panicked. I look around wildly fearing they are lingering to torment me some more when soft touch on my shoulder startles me.

“They’re gone, Mitzy. Just take deep breathes.” Isaac instructs me soothingly from my side. “They’re not worth making a trip to the hospital, you’ll be fine. Just breathe with me. Inhale…Exhale…Inhale…”

Isaac’s right and I nod my head in understanding, following his lead and breathing deep with him. He was always a sensible person, even in middle school back when I met him. In those days, he was low key and was as high in the social ladder as I am today – not that high. However, as we grew up, Fate dealt him a good hand for life and gave him a normal sized heart and put an ace up his sleeve making him the champ of the swimming team that he is today. Isaac was once a tall, lanky, all-around-nice kid that would geek out on sci-fi and physics and offer his arm to help old blind ladies across the street – I’m exaggerating but I wouldn’t put it past him. Now, all that diving and swimming helped his stick-figure-like physique, broadening his shoulders with more muscle and toning his arms and legs to be stealthy as a dolphin in water and evened out his dork-o-meter so that he is on par with the jocks…sorta. Fate eventually makes up for his imperfections while he grew up. Apparently, there wasn’t enough good fortune to spare on me, let alone add me on a charity case list.

One thing that will never change about him is the size of his heart. He looks out for me constantly - well, since we met - and no matter how popular he becomes or what peer group he’s around, he always treats me with decency, like a human being, and almost an equal. That, however still doesn’t stop him from showing pity and worrying over my well being. It didn’t hurt any less but at least he didn’t look at me like I am a hazard that’s going to pass out at any given moment or a freak born wrong in this world. I just have a rare heart deformity that makes doing physical activity pretty difficult, that’s all.

“Mitzy”, Isaac’s voice forces me to focus on him once again, “are you hurt?” His voice now has a hint of concern in it.

I open my eyes to see his bright green ones filled with alarm as he looked down upon my prone body. No, I hate that look - most of all from him! I nodded vigorously to chase that look from his eyes as fast as I could; trying to convince him I was fine. In truth, that oaf Joe barreled into me like a freight train that was derailed when he tripped on my stuff and I know I’ll have a bruise along with a stiff upper body. I pushed myself up to a sitting position, hiding my grimace and Isaac offered his hand for assistance, which I graciously took. I just looked down towards my feet, dusting my clothes of non-existent lint all in the name of not looking directly at him.

“Do you want to stop by the nurse’s, just in case?”

I just shake my head and smile to myself as I reply, “I’m fine. You know me.”

I instantly realize that I don’t have my bag so I search, turning about when magically appears suspended before my eyes. Isaac had it hanging from his hand at my eye level and proffered it to me and my gaze follows the line of his arm to his warm smile. I finally stand up and turn towards him to nod my acknowledgment and gratitude in his direction. He gestures outward with his arm, the direction we should head out and nods back. Though I do see a hint of skepticism when he observes my movements, I know he means well.

“I’m a tough cookie and I’ve adapted to three and a half years of torment pretty well, if I say so myself.”

“Listen, Mitz, you really should see-”

“I’m okay…really.” I gave him a halfhearted grin before walking on before him.

I could practically feel Isaac’s eyes on my back, probably wondering the same thing I am; am I really okay or is this all a façade that I show everyone for reassurance just so they won’t fuss over me. I may be the victim now, but I’m a true believer of “what goes around, comes around.” Until then, I’ll deal with the present, one day at a time.

** ∞ * ∞ * ∞ **

Briing        Briing         Briing

I glance over at my nightstand where my alarm’s bright red light penetrates my eyes – 3:30am! – There’s nothing indicating it is time to get up. It’s way too early for that so, back to bed for now. I reach across so that I can turn off that racket when a bright light filters through my closed eyes and someone walks in to lightly shake me awake.

“Hon, wake up.”

“Hmm…what…?”

“Wake up, dear. That was the hospital on the phone. They said they finally found you a match.”