Hello, everybody! My name is Kylie. I am fifteen years old. Since early childhood I've been called 'a special child.' When I was a little girl, I realized I saw things that other children didn't see. I was afraid of crosswalks and stairs. Yellow and red colors just terrified me! I would always have a panic attack when I saw traffic lights. All the other kids thought I was crazy and even their parents told them to stay away from me. I thought my mom was always very loving and supportive, I knew I was different from other people and couldn't find the answer for 'why.' But after a lot of medical research and what seemed like millions of talks with psychiatrists, I was finally given the name of my condition - schizophrenia. Of course, I didn't understand what that meant at the time, but I saw that it absolutely devastated both of my parents. This diagnosis turned my whole life upside down. I had to take tons of pills every day, which made me sleepy and it was hard for me to even articulate things. I turned into a vegetable! But doctors seemed to be really satisfied, with my so called positive dynamics.
I know this situation was very challenging for my parents too, especially for my father. He had his own view of life and just refused to accept the fact that his daughter could possibly be "not right in the head." He would blame everyone and everything around him and went as far as to claim that it was all my mother's bad genes. He wouldn't look me in the eyes and tried to pretend I wasn't there. That's the way we lived until one morning, when I found my mom lying on the floor in the bathroom. The cause of death was a hemorrhagic stroke, but the actual reason for that was me. Eight years had passed since the diagnosis had been established. And those years were a real torture for her. I was absolutely broken and dejected. When my father said he was going to send me to a boarding school far far away from home, so that he never had to lay eyes on me again, I was sure I deserved it. He had me make a promise that I would follow my medical prescriptions and keep on taking my pills regularly.
Even though I was aware that students with slight mental disorders were allowed to attend that school, I was scared to death. I was afraid to be misunderstood and to not be accepted again. But, this was one time when I was glad to be mistaken. The first person I met was my roommate, Daniela. She was so nice and friendly that we kind of bonded right away. We went to different classes, but we would spend all of our free time together. We had the same interests and she also disliked red and yellow colors. When I confessed to her that I was schizophrenic, she smiled and said: "We all have our quirks, right?" My mom always used to tell me that. I was as happy as I could possibly be. I had a real friend now. I could tell her everything I had on my mind. I also told her about my father. I think I completely cried my eyes out. Daniela was outraged when she heard my story. She started to try to persuade me that I was more normal than anybody she had ever met before. She insisted that I stop taking my pills, which were actually killing me. She also said I had to write a message to my father and to tell him what I really thought and felt. But I would never have had the heart to do that, under any circumstances.
One day I got a call from my father, which was very unusual. I thought he had forgotten about my existence as soon as he had gotten rid of me. But before I had a chance to say hello, he started yelling at me and threatening that he would not pay for my education anymore and disown me. I was so scared I could not move and in addition, I didn't have the slightest idea of what on Earth I had done wrong to make him so furious. But then I found a strange message on my phone. It was sent to my father, but I did not text him. I just froze in horror when I read it. It said that my dad was an unworthy and narrow-minded person and that he had no right to treat me that way. It actually reflected what I really thought, but it was definitely not me who wrote it. It could be only have been one person.
I found Daniella in our room. She innocently looked at me as if nothing had happened. I demanded that she tell me the truth about the message. She didn't even try to deny it and said she had done it for my own good. But what was good about it, if my father disowned me for real? Where would I go? I burst into tears, but suddenly Daniella said coldly: "You are just a coward, aren't you?" That was the most offensive and painful thing I had ever heard. Maybe it was because I knew she was right.
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