By the Pricking of My Thumbs

Madura Muraleetharan (11) – STAFF REPORTER

I should’ve seen it coming. I should have known what they had in mind. On orientation day, the teachers managed to lure me in with the promise of Barbies, and I had unsuspectingly fallen right into their trap. Little did I know that it was an absolute scam.

I discovered their trickery within the first few minutes of my first day. The honey-sweet smiles they’d presented on orientation day had dripped away to uncover harrowingly empty eyes and sneering expressions all set on faces that withered with malice. It was then that I discovered their ploy. It was then that I knew there would be no Barbies. I had been a brook, freely laughing, and babbling whenever I wanted to, however I pleased.
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Within one day of school though, they had managed to mould and meander me into a gently flowing, uniform stream. Lifting my hand up when I wanted to speak, asking to use the bathroom, staying quiet while the teacher told us what colours we had to colour our animals, these were all ridiculous and foreign to me.

Twelve years later, they’re all second nature. I can see why though. Oh, how it terrifies me. Something about my gaze and the set of my mouth has changed; something underneath me has started to take form. For now, when I look in the mirror, I am starting to see something strikingly familiar, déjà vu if you will. I see eyes -harrowingly empty eyes- and a sneering expression (such a horrid sneer), all set on a face that withers -oh withers!- with malice…