"Diverse"

“Write a story about a character who thinks they have a sun allergy”

"Different"

The sound of harsh laughter fills my mind as I close my eyes, trying to rest. I see a crowd full of people surrounding me, harsh eyes staring at me, judging. I could hear whispers in the crowd, silent but deadly. “Mom,” a little girl said, crying, “What’s wrong with her?” I felt a burning pain on my arm, and the voices of the people became louder, the sun shined brighter, the arm hurt worse. I flinch and open my eyes and sit up immediately. They were their usual peach color, with small brown freckles scattered on them like salt. A heavy sigh escapes my lips, and I stand up to get a glass of cold water. I lower my feet onto the tiled floor and shiver. The floor was cool, with small dust particles on it. I walk to the kitchen, the sound of my footsteps making a small padding noise. I pour myself a glass of water from my faucet, and I walk back to bed with it. I lie down on the bed and stare at the clear, cold water. I take a deep breath and take a big sip of the water. The cold, crisp, water ran down my throat, calming me, and I rest my head on my cool pillow, closing my eyes to attempt to sleep again. After a long half-hour, I finally submitted to sweet sleep.

I snap my eyes open as a loud alarm fills my room, waking me up immediately. I grumble and put my foot onto the cold, tiled floor, shivering. I put my other foot down, and take a step over, but I trip over something smooth. My face hits the cold floor, and I rest there for a split second. I sneeze on dust. The brown floor is covered with a thick layer of dust. Dang it, I need to clean this up! I haven’t cleaned in ages. I look behind me and see a blue mug whose contents were now spilled all over the floor. Great, more work to do. I pick myself up off the floor and grab a towel to begin cleaning up the mess. I mop it up and throw the rag towards the laundry bin, but missing by a great total of 3 meters. Ugh. I walk by it, not caring to pick it up and walk to the restroom. I look in the mirror, and I see a familiar pair of brown and blue eyes staring at me, complete with the same ash-brown hair and an overwhelming amount of light brown freckles. I sigh and slouch my shoulders, underwhelmed. I wash my face and brush my teeth, cringing as the bristles tickle my green braces. I go to my closet, pick out a blue hoodie with a beanie and black leggings. I sigh and pull the hoodie over my head, so it hid most of my face, slid on my boots, and step outside into the hideous yellow sun. Time for hell.

I arrive at the school and look up to the building. It was golden brown, with small scraps of white accompanying it. It was home to thousands of blue-tinted beat-up windows. It stood on a scraped-up slate of cement if you could call it that. It was surrounded by green (once black) gates, which seemed useless, for they only reached up to my waist. As I walk through the dark-emerald green gates, I am greeted by stares and the whispers accompanying them, as always. I hid my face further and tried to block out the insults, but they shone through.

“Look at that girl, isn’t she strange?”

“That freak? That’s Seraphine. The school freak.”

“Oh. She looks quite peculiar.”

“Duh.”

“She’s the weirdest student here.”

“She’s so ugly.”

“What’s wrong with her eyes?”

“What’s wrong with her face?”

Their sharp words hit me like a dagger. my face burning as I look up, and divert my attention to the cement, staring at each individual pore. The words stung. They hurt. They burnt. Hitting me like fire, they left some scars that could never heal. They dug deep into my skin. The hut-like the sun, which burnt my skin and sent my face into hives, hitting me with pain. Both were cruel, unforgiving, and unrelenting. Society as a whole, worshipped those who were more fortunate in the game of life, and won the looks, the fame, the money. They respected those of the same status as them. But if they only respect them, what happens to us down below? Would we be ignored and treated normal, or would we be treated like zoo animals, there to be stared at? The loud bell rings, snapping me out of my thoughts immediately. I walk to my locker, grabbed my English and math book, and make my way to Mrs. Belovyan’s room, ready to be greeted with the usual cold stares. This is going to be a long day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~6 hours later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sling my backpack over my shoulder and ran to the exit, hungry for freedom after an exhausting day of learning trigonometry and analyzing the works of William Shakespeare. I run towards the exit, almost there, when I go flying into the air! I land face first in the blue tiles as I hear a hearty laugh. A chubby blonde boy with green eyes and tanned skin looked at me from above. He was wearing an ugly smile, teeth covered in green braces that made him look like he hadn’t brushed his yellow teeth for days, even though he didn’t; his breath reeked of yesterday’s spinach casserole. I saw everyone staring at me with judgemental eyes, staring. It seems that he was saying something, but I was too fed up to listen. I pick myself up, my face burning up, and I walk back home as nothing happened. I still feel hot in the face, though. What a great day.

I open my eyes, to see a white void surrounding me. Bleak and cold, and painful to look at. I rotate my head and take a brief scan of my surroundings, which were nothing more than a white void. Small gusts of wind blow around, not seeming to come from anywhere. I take a step, and flinch; the footstep echoing around the void, loud and clear, hurting my ears. It echoes around a few dozen times, then stops; leaving a bleak silence behind. I step again and am beckoned by another painful concussion that echoes through the void. I begin running, and as the piercing pound bangs through my head, I run faster, circling into panic and running as I was running for my life. I close my eyes, cover my ears, run faster and future, praying for an escape. The sound becomes unbearable; resounding in my head, making me feel as I was about to burst like a balloon pierced with a needle. I open my mouth, and scream a terrible scream, sounding like fear and pain. The sound stopped immediately, and I listened to my shriek resound between the void, frozen in my very spot, crouching on my knees. Forming in midair emerges a small hurricane, revolving in there, filling the void with cold air, making me shiver. I stare at it with wide eyes, still frozen in my spot. It increases, becoming bigger, collecting more wind, and raging. I step off of my knees and bolt, only for the hurricane’s ferocious winds to drag me closer. Despite my desperate attempts to jolt free from its clutches, I am drawn by the winds into the abyss of cold wind. I close my eyes, feeling myself being tossed around, and beat around by the wind. Tossing and turning, gathering more power and wind to add to the raging storm that was here right now. I wiggle, trying to jolt free from the winds. After various failed attempts of escape, I try one more time a feel myself fall from the top. I try to open my eyes, and turn around, to see a black ground approaching me. I brace myself; ready for the impact of the hit. I collapse, and again, I hear the unbearable sound of laughter, mumbles, and seas of people, their faces unclear and gray, but still had the unrelenting stares, unbudging, unmerciful. the hurricane surrounds me again, engulfing me in the fast, cruel winds. The sounds of laughter and the stares kept on, driving me mad, and pushing me to the very edge. I fall from the wind’s clutches to the narrowing eye of the hurricane, and in there, the painful stares, the mumbles, the laughs. I squeeze my eyes shut and cover my ears, trying to block out the sound again, but the sound leaks through, louder than ever. I open my mouth and let out a terrifying shriek which drowned out the noise to the point that it sounded like I was on the inside of an earthquake. I fell again, only to land on my cold floor. I pick myself up and sit on my bed, my head facing the ceiling. These frequent nightmares reminded me of the harshness of the world. How the individuals who fell into the category of “different” would always have to hide from the sun to live “”, away from all the jeers and naysayers. It gave us the constant reminder that we would always be classified as different from others. Society’s ideals are too hard to evade. That’s why we had to stay out of the sun, so we wouldn’t be burnt to the point that we wouldn’t heal.

The days of my life pass like a blur, a jumble of memories full of schoolwork, anxiety, and nightmares. Every day felt the same; the same nightmares plagued my sleep, the same teachers droned out the useless lessons that would never benefit us. Everything remained the same. “Stay out of the sun, and you won’t get burnt,” they say. I guess that’s why I’m so pale.