Always Tell the...

Me. Zariza. Surely I’m polite. Once people actually know me, they say, “You’re very sympathetic.” I had no idea what that meant. After all, I was only in second grade when this happened. I knew no one, and I was very, well, despised by most of my fellow second graders. How was I despised, you say? Well, it started with my identical twin. I have a disease that I was born with. I couldn’t talk until I was about 6 years old. Ever since then, my mouth couldn’t move. I loved to read though. Mom says that I’m a special kid. I knew all the answers to trivia questions for 7th graders when I was only in Kindergarten. I’ve read approximately 1000 books that I memorized right when I finished reading it, not only twice! Though those reasons were not why I was despised.

My whole second grade class knew that I couldn’t talk for a while, but that wasn’t why they hated me. I was hated for being a nice, and loved kid. I was an extremely nice kid back then. I would always say, “I love it!” to things, even if I hated it, but no. That is what the story is about. In first grade, it was the opposite. Everyone loved me. Since then I have had no best friends. My true best friend from first grade already moved to the opposite side of the country, California. Right now, I haven’t moved from New York. Not New York city, but upstate New York with greenery and scenery everywhere. My birthday was yesterday, and I can’t wait to see what my best friend, Amethyst, in California sent me.

My birthday. The day of which you turn a year older. According to a dictionary, the anniversary of the day on which a person was born, typically treated as an occasion for celebration and the giving of gifts. A day when you get presents, like it said. A day of love from your family. A box came. On the box, it read, To be opened ONLY on Zariza’s 11th birthday. It was from Amethyst. I could recognize her handwriting anywhere. Then I saw the letter. The letter read, 

Dear Zariza,  

Happy Birthday to you from California! This box is made only by me and no one can open it without my help. 

Love, Amethyst

P.S. This box is to be opened ONLY when I come. DO NOT TRY TO OPEN!

Now this letter brought up some questions. She was coming? Then the doorbell rang. She’s here!, I thought, Wait. It probably isn’t her. When my mom opened the door, it was her! We exchanged several hugs. She was with her mom, and then she told me to get the box. I told her that we literally just finished reading the card when she came in. I was super excited to find out what lay in the box in front of me, and so I asked if we could open the box right away. When we opened the box, what lay inside the box was unexpected and surprising. The one and only thing I hated lay inside the box. A small, unexpectedly small, Thomas the Train set.

Amethyst knew that I hated trains, especially Thomas the Train, but I had to keep it cool and polite. I forced a wide smile and said through clenched teeth, “I love it!” Was this really the only thing?, I thought to myself. Then the thought came, she must have planned a surprise party!  I was so excited to see what she planned. At the end of the day, I got tired of waiting for her, and then just picked up the toy train with tweezers, and threw it under my bed. I was never going to play with that stupid, horrible, little toy again. I wasn’t going to waste precious time playing with something I hated. 

In fifth grade, I learned about always telling the truth to others. My teacher told the whole class that she was going to tell a story about when she didn’t tell the truth. I ignored her like I always did, and went off daydreaming. Though, I should have been listening because Ms. Johnson called me. She was asking me, and asking me what the moral of the story was. I asked if I could go use the restroom, and when she said sure, I was trying to think back on all life lessons. Then I thought of it. I went back into the classroom, and told the teacher my thoughts. I said, “The moral of your story is to never trust strangers.” Everyone laughed at me. Soon I was laughing and then told her my real thoughts. I said, “You should be grateful for everything.” Now everyone was nodding their heads. They agreed with me. Ms. Johnson said, “Nice work, Zariza. Everyone, clap for her.” Well that was what I wanted her to say. 

Unfortunately, all she said was, “Okay. Anyone else?” That made me think. I was going to listen to Avery, the next person to raise her hand. She said, “The moral of the story is to always, ALWAYS, tell your true thoughts, or else you might get in trouble later, and your plan might backfire on you.” Then, and this is why I don’t like her, she smiled and snickered at me. I thought, I must- “I’m going to share my story again,” said Ms. Johnson, “One day, my best friend was looking at me. It was my birthday, and she forgot. I told her it was okay, but she declined my words. She told me to wait where I was-in the playground that is-until she came back. I waited for hours until she showed up. I was literally keeping myself awake,” she laughed after this, “But when she came, she brought a very messy card that deep inside I hated, and then she left. I never saw her again. Though it was probably because I was so mean about the card she gave me even though I tried to hide it. Telling the truth and letting it out will always be better than not telling someone about it, and trying to hide it. After I never saw her again, I was crying for several days.” I raised my hand. I was holding back tears a little. That was like me and Amethyst. Ms. Johnson called on me, and I told her I was feeling sick, which I was, on the inside. I went home with a fever, and went to Amethyst.

By the time I told her sorry, and the truth, we both were crying, and, for no reason that I know of, she was laugh-crying. It turned out that this was all a test for me, and that my real present was the one thing I was craving. A hug, a kiss, and visit from my B.F.F., Amethyst.