January 13 1989
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Dear Reader,
I apologise if you find these letters tedious. If you do feel so, please feel free to discard these letters. As far as I know, you may not even exist. If you do read these though, I give you my humble love.
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High school was different for me. Due to the mandatory uniform my legs were hidden behind long pants. Most student loathed those grey, itchy legs, but to me, they were paradise. An escape from the past. I now had friends, which some of whom I became very close to. In my third year, however, I told one of my “best friends” of my ailment. After that my friends began to ignore me. I received strange looks in the hallways and people would pretend I wasn’t even there. I heard them talk to each other, calling me names. I think I would’ve killed myself, if it weren’t for Abigail. Abigail was in the UK while this happened, on one of those lousy exchanges. At lunch, the day she came back, was the first day in 2 months someone had sat on my table. I dismissed it, thinking that she didn’t hear about me, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before she found out. But she came the next day. And the rest of the week. And the next week. And the week after that. Finally, three weeks later, I asked her if she had heard about my legs. She would find out later, I reasoned and I felt guilty, as if I was using her somehow, lying to her.
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But then, she said yes.
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I feel like I might end here, on a cliffhanger. I need to get some sleep, because I have a job interview tomorrow. I hope this is the one!
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Always yours,
Abishek
ns 15.158.61.40da2
