"Hey, Marriott!, Marriott !!"
I looked down from my window, it was Micheal.
"You're not showing up today? We want to play football, you can be the referee" he yelled at me from downstairs.
"I don't know bro. Maybe tomorrow" I replied, feigning a smile. I'd spend hours staring out my bedroom window, watching them play. It felt like watching life pass by. Their laughter filled the street. .
"You said the same thing yesterday. You know you can't keep on hiding indoors from us, when you're not a vampire" he turned to leave "I'm not giving up. I'll be back tomorrow" he added.
I smiled.
Immediately, I heard my room door open, I turned to see my mum standing at the door "Sure you don't want to go play with them? It'll be fun. " she persuaded me with a smile
"I'm fine," I replied, trying hard not to smile back at her.
"You know, you won't keep hiding here forever son. At some point you have to step out and mingle with people. I'm sure it's therapeutic too. I'm sure your friends care much about you"
I didn't reply to her, rather I walked over to the door and slammed it shut. I wasn't in for one of her lectures again. I got over to my bed and slumped into it. Burying my face deep into the sheets
"Dinner will be ready soon," I heard mum yell from the other side of the door. Pain clearly laced in her voice.
But mum wasn't wrong at all. I sure had good friends who cared for me. And ofcourse, I was sure they did nothing wrong to me to warrant me staying away from them, from playing with them. Micheal always showing up to drag me out of the house was proof that he cared about me. But I felt ashamed around them. It wasn't my fault though, it was how life dealt with me as a kid
Growing up, I was always the sickly one in my family. I can't tell how many times I missed school, missed celebrating my birthdays because I was in the hospital, and whatnot – you name it, I probably missed it. Sometimes it felt like I spent more time in the hospital than at home. I won't lie, it got to the point that there were times when I wished I wasn't even born. I almost missed my secondary school final exams. If not for my principal who came through for me and kept a spot open for me, hoping I'd get better on time to join others. And miraculously, I made it in time to sit for the exams.
All these made me harbour these big resentment In me about everything. All those years of being sick made me resent my parents for bringing me into a world of pain. I hated myself too, my friends, my looks, my frail body – I hated it all. I grumbled about everything, felt like I wasn't worth much. Hence the reason I always stayed home and hidden from friends, only coming out at night.
"Why didn't you guys just let me stay wherever I was. Why give birth to me to suffer" I remember asking my Dad one day as he sat beside me as I lay on my sick bed in my room.
He was silent for a few seconds. Then he said: "Because we love you. Your mother and I, we love you"
I didn't know if that answer was what I needed but I felt the truth in that. I quickly turned my face to the wall, hiding my about to be tear stained face from him. Dad only tapped my shoulders and left the room.
With only me being in the room I turned to face the ceiling. My conscience pricked me for being harsh on him. I struggled out of bed and walked out of my room to my dad's room. But just at the door of his room, as I was about to knock, I heard him crying. My hands went numb and I stood outside eavesdropping on him.
"Lord, why? It would have been me suffering all these than my son" I heard him pray in-between sobs. "Even if it means spending all I have to see him get better than this, I'm willing to do that. Please just don't let my boy suffer anymore" he continued.
It was at that point I realised that I was becoming too much on everyone with my attitude. It was at that point I realised that I was biting hard on people that really did care for me. I realised I was fighting myself for no good reason. My parents, despite the financial strain of my illness, loved me to bits and were willing to do whatever it takes to see me get better. My friends still wanted to hang out, and didn't care about my looks.
I couldn't bear to listen to Dad cry anymore. I quietly walked back to my room. Making sure that nobody hears or sees me. By now there's an all out war on my conscience by itself. I locked myself Inside and cried my heart's out.
But as I cried, something shifted inside me. The weight of my resentment for everyone, my self-hatred – it all began to feel lighter. Like a burden being lifted off my shoulders.
Today, I've realised that my struggles, my pain in the past, were just water under the bridge. Today, the love of my family and friends is what matters the most, and I am steadily embracing it and finding myself and my peace.