Chapter 1: How It All Started

As a child I could never get friends. I was seen as that weird girl with the weird markings on her. People thought my skin was contagious and would often make fun of me. My parents would always see me come off the bus in tears as I ran into their arm crying and trying to tell them about, yet another horrible day I've had through hard inhales and hiccups. It hurts after all; When your beautiful daughter is exiled all because of a skin disease they can't control. I knew it weighed heavy on their hearts so I tried to keep it to myself, but how does one hide the sounds of sorrow when their room is directly next to their parents bedroom?

I can remember it like it was yesterday. It was picture day and my mom did my hair in these beautiful twisted ribbon curls. I had hair that stopped just a little under my shoulder blades and even though my vitiligo bothers me I was proud to show off my face. The blotches that I have are around my eyes almost like the heros the incredibles have in that movie, along with a couple spots on my right cheek and jawline then you have small and medium spots that gives me this heavily marked dalmatian look. But even then I felt beautiful like the princess my father constantly reminds me of. And let's not forget the beautiful dress that I wore with it. It was my favorite color; lavender with cute ruffled sleeves and plum purple flowers that almost resembles a gentle breeze swiftly moving them as I twirl and I wore slides that showed my toes that both me and my mommy polished the night before which were white.

That day I was determined to have a good day. No matter the bad things people would say about me. I guess its safe to say that they didn't like the fact that I had a big bright smile showing the front tooth that was missing at the top. Melissa, took it upon herself to steal some grape juice that one of the students brought. Just as he sat it down on his desk Melissa, took it without even asking. She took the straw and pierced the small fragile piece of plastic with it. I remember sitting at my desk when I felt a tap on my shoulder. This couldn't be good. No one ever wants to touch me and this person did right on one of my spots as I liked to call it.

Something told me not to turn back, but I did. That day I was devastated. Me and my mother went out to buy these matching summer dresses just yesterday only for Melissa, to take the cranberry juice and squirt it all over my head. My entire top half soaked with cold red juice. I let out a scream and the teacher came over seeing Melissa, proceed to throw the juice packet at me. I screamed and kicked in anger and frustration. My teacher grabbed me before I could finally let loose on her. The last little string to keep my sanity together snapped in an instant. I saw blood. I wanted her head. Nobody hafd ever seen me get so angry and it frightened all the other kids even, Melissa.

After a talk with both our parents in the principles office I asked to go home and Melissa was suspended for just three days. My mom tried getting me to smile and when all else fails my father could make me laugh, but even he couldn't do so this time. They knew it was bad when I wouldn't have the regular tears rushing down my cheeks. Instead I just sat there on the couch lifeless. My parents went off to the kitchen to make me my favorite dinner, a fried fish sandwich with my fries. That was my opportunity to leave out the entertainment room and go to the bathroom. And I know what you're thinking. Don't do it. But I felt nothing to the point of being numb. I saw no reason to be here when I would just be an outcast and when my family members would pass away I would always hear my family say" They're in a better place now." I thought maybe I could go there too since nobody wanted me here.

The very next thing I know is that I hear controlled beeping as I began to come too. My eyes flutter open and I hear my fathers voice.

"Honey! Honey! She's waking up!" My mother had to be exhausted. My father too. They didn't look well at all. As I got my sight clear enough to see both my mother and father I cried because I caused them so much heartache from my actions.

"She's alive! My babies alive! Call the doctor in!" My mother instructed my father while she held me gentle enough not to hurt me. I could tell she wanted so badly to hug me tight and protectively as she always did. 

My father came running back in the room with the Doctor speed walking behind him. He asked the usual questions and checked my vital signs. The police were involved just incase my parents were abusive and drove me to these actions. At the time I was only 8 years old. What child do you know attempts to take their own lives? I explained everything as much as I could to them. My parents both worked hard and mother and father spoils me to death. They would be the last people to ever think of harming me.

 The day I came home my entire family was there. My uncles on my fathers side cooking up some good ole BBQ burgers, sausages, chicken quarters, ribs, spicy hotdogs, grilled veggies such as green, red, yellow peppers, corn on the cob and onions and my grandfather both had been cooking a hog in a pit that they made many many years ago. And my aunties and grandmothers made some creamy and thick Mac cheese from scratch, potato salad, and baked beans with ground beef and green bell peppers mixed. The front door was decorated with my favorite lavender and plum colored balloons with cards attached to them and confetti all over the ground. Inside the house were more baloons and all over the walls were encouraging words from strangers all over the US that have heard about my story.  And inside the house was a table full of presents not just from family, but people were so touched that they asked to send gifts as well. The table wasnt big, but the front was just covered and pilled on with so much. It made me smile a bit.

That day went on to be one of the best days ever. I got to eat some DELICIOUS food, hangout with my cousins, talk to my uncles, aunts, and grand parents, dance a little bit with everyone and play some games. The day couldn't get any better. But it does.

As I opened my presents my grandmother gave me a present next. This one came from an outside supporter. My small fingers ripped into the wrapping paper and it revealed a medium sized plushy of a zombie panther. You probably think that's too scary for a child, but I LOVE scary movies since I was a little girl. Something like this was nothing to me. There was a note attached to the collar that read,

--I know its hard to make friends. As a child I too suffered bullying and know your pain. But what made me happy again was a stuffie that my mother made me. It became my best friend in the whole wide world. I heard your favorite animal is the panther and you enjoy scary movies. I got the crazy thought to mix the two together and Voila! A zombie panther. I hope your new friend.

I was captivated by the cute plushie. His hair was all white and spiked like those anime characters, and in some areas he had dead skin while the rest was that of a panther. He also had staples as if to keep his panther skin from falling off. He even had clothing. A long coat that ended at his ankles as well as a tall collar up to his cheeks. He has a white V neck shirt that shows more staples just at the top of his chest. His arms were burned down all the way to mid palm where more stables were. His sleeves stopped just short of his elbow and it was connected to two pretty rings she welded herself. Then he had a belt, some midnight blue pants and some boots.

I gave it a tight hug and everyone was a little off put by the plushie, but nobody dare speak a word. Instead their faces did the talking, but for once with the panther in my arms I didn't care what anybody thought of me or the things I liked.

That night I went to bed with my zombie panther, Touya and since then he became my best friend. I could share ally secrets with him, cry with him, hug him when I'm having bad thoughts, reading with him, drawing with him. It was just too much fun having him around. Loretta, definitely made a friend fit for me in my book. The only thing is that I wished the plushie could have been alive, and actually living breathing thing. If I had a boyfriend ever I would love him to be exactly like my little zombie panther. But man....Who would have known that wishing actually held so much power?