Chapter III – Seeing Red
I think back on the day of the red jumper occasionally. Apparently, it created great controversy amongst my peers. They seemed to feel the obligation to put me in my place, as if they were trying to say: "How dare she wear something fit for a child?" As a consequence, they believed to have the right to chide and humiliate me for my "bad conduct", as it were. I felt like I was being condemned for being true to myself. Had I committed a crime? Had I broken some kind of social law? According to them, it warranted ridicule and made me an outsider, an outcast, maybe even an outlaw.
At the root of the mockery I went through in my teenage years, was one particularly heartless creature. The person I am referring to is my stepsister Beatrice Grateley. She initiated the cruelty that ensued from that day forth. From as early as our childhood, she seemed to think she was superior to me. We were rivals from an early age on, really from the moment she came into my life with her sister Lucinda. When we were still in primary school, we once shared a best friend merely by coincidence whom she had met first, but this girl, Amelia Kaling, is still my best friend to this day and not hers. As a matter of fact, Amelia and I share a cottage in Blackfield together these days. So, in many ways, I think I may have won this endless competition between us, but every time I see Beatrice, I feel small again, like my existence is somehow worth less than hers. I have my rightful place on this planet as does she, but although I am aware of that, her shadow still seems to hang over me and her presence still seems to haunt me. She is still there in my thoughts more often than I would like to admit. She is a ghost from my past that still haunts me in the present. As much as I would like to leave the memory of her behind me, I cannot, as she is after all my stepsister and I am obligated to endure her presence at family gatherings at the very least.
I regret wearing that jumper that fateful day until now, but in many ways it also built my character. That day the ruthlessness of my peers became apparent to me. It struck me like a lightning bolt. Until that day, I had gone through life oblivious to darkness, to the evil that lurks in some of our fellow humans' spirits. I was but an innocent child before that day, kind at heart, tolerant to difference; even embracing it. However, even when I saw my classmates laughing at me collectively, I did not immediately jump to the conclusion that they were laughing at me, so I joined in their laughter like a fool, never in a million years thinking I was the object of their derision. I only found out it was actually me they were laughing at from Amelia, who was in my class at the time, but I honestly wish she had never told me. What she said to me as we were filing out of the classroom that day was:
"I think they were laughing because of your sweater…"
I was stunned after this comment. It was as if the world I knew was crashing down about my ears. My proverbial rose-coloured glasses had come off. Suddenly, I felt like I could see the world for what it really was or at least for what it is capable of being: a cruel and harsh place. From that day forth, I suddenly became aware that my attire was being mocked on a daily basis. Sometimes the girls in Beatrice's circle of friends needed only to give me a look to make me feel chided. Standing huddled together between classes, they would one by one take a glance at me and purposefully stare at my shoes, for instance, to make me realise:
"Yes, we are looking at your shoes on purpose and we are laughing at you, nobody else, to make you feel bad about yourself."
They wanted me to be fully aware of them gossiping about me "behind my back", although I could actually see them doing it, only I couldn't hear what they were saying. Day by day, I had apparently committed some unforgivable offense fashion-wise, which made me try harder and harder to blend in and rendered me increasingly insecure. Those four years in Secondary School, when those awful girls were in my class, have emotionally scarred me to this day. I also blamed Amelia in part, because she could only have made the observation that it was my jumper that was being laughed at, if she herself thought that there was something wrong with it. Although she would never admit it, I am certain that Amelia was embarrassed for me and maybe even thought that our classmates could somehow not be blamed for finding me worth laughing at. That is an unresolved issue between us. She was never a friend who would stand up for me, as she wanted to fit in so desperately herself to avoid being treated like I was. Her family background is a lot different from mine as well. Both Amelia's and Beatrice's families are well off, which is why they became fast friends when they were younger, but as she grew older, Amelia realised fairly quickly how truly malevolent Beatrice really was. In the end, while my friendship with Amelia endured, her friendship with Beatrice fell apart. As Amelia matured, she began to see Beatrice's true face and started distancing herself from that malicious creature. Sadly, we all encounter our own version of Beatrice at least once in our lives. I will never be able to comprehend how people like her can live with themselves, but I am sure that they will be dealt their fair share of misery in life. Maybe I should pity her, for what drives a person to be so cruel can only be a deep insecurity within themselves. If other people's suffering is what makes you happy, you are a poor soul.