DO YOU FEEL ME?

I haven’t got much time so I’m going to leave the boring bits out; go ahead and smile, that is definitely something to be happy about. Who would want to read a book with pages and pages of irrelevant, boring information? But for those who are interested, I went to school that day and nobody left me out or laughed at me. I did get some questions about what it’s like to be blind but that was fine because I was still accepted. Anyway, enough of that, I want to talk to you about when I was in high school. Dad had decided to send me to the school down the road from our house so I could get used to walking there on my own. Nobody spoke to me for the first few months and I never understood why. Dad said it was because I needed to be more vocal and socialise, but I was too scared to make first moves, so I just didn’t draw attention to myself. After a while I settled into school and things were feeling slightly better, I loved English the most. I had my own Braille books; Braille is how we read; it’s like small little dots that I find so interesting. The way they are strategically embedded into the paper is art in itself, to regular people it just looks like random bumps that wouldn’t make any sense feeling them; but people like me would be restricted without them. I loved reading and still do; it takes my mind off everything. Plus when I began high school, I didn’t have any friends so, reading would feed my boredom. I always hoped that one day I would meet a friend that I could teach Braille reading to; it was so amazing that if people learnt more about it they would never read a standard book again, they’d always read in Braille. Students in my English class used to call me ‘Braille Boy’; I’d always chuckle at the name but after a while it became annoying. Maths was a subject I hated with a passion, not because I wasn’t good at it but because of the classroom environment; also I didn’t really like algebra just saw it as a useless mind straining topic. But that wasn’t why I hated maths, Mrs Briggs was the reason why my maths lessons would encourage any food in my stomach to creep to the back of my throat and force me to hurl. She was a monster; well to me anyway. Then to add to her ghastly behaviour, 24 students would join in with her shenanigans to ensure that every lesson my mood was dampened, and all happiness was replaced with depression. You may be thinking that’s an exaggeration, but honestly that’s how it was. One lesson that always sticks in my mind that I have been trying to remove for years is summer term, afternoon lesson; a lesson I’d never forget. I had finished lunch early and been standing outside the classroom for about 10 minutes; I was leaning up against the wall reading my book (when I say reading; I mean feeling) which I’d nearly finished. The bell went to signal that lunch was over and the lesson was due to start; when that bell rang I instantly jumped because it disturbed the silence in the corridor. I then walked along the corridor feeling the doors and feeling the numbers to workout which classroom was mine. As I got to my classroom I turned the handle but it was locked; Mrs Briggs was late. I was only young but I was very strict on time keeping, it’s always been, and always will be, something I find very important. After about 3 minutes, the class began to queue up outside waiting for Mrs Briggs to hurry up and get started. She finally arrived shooing everyone out the way with her annoying voice. This may sound slightly immature but as I never saw Mrs Briggs, I created a character based on her voice; in my mind she was the type of person you’d never want around and if they were around you, you'd try your best to get rid of them; kind of like a fart really. But yes, enough of the banter; we all got inside and I struggled to find a seat but I got there eventually. The lesson began, and she had been talking about this multiplication method for nearly 20 minutes and all I wanted to do was put it to practice. Finally she began the questions, the way she worked was she would write a question on the board and we’d have to complete it. I was always ready to work out the questions and eager to be the first to answer. “Okay off you go, answer this question on the board please.” Now Mrs Briggs knew I couldn’t see but I assumed she'd just forgot to read it out; so I raised my hand and asked her to read it out. Bruce who sat 3 seats behind me replied, “Read it yourself.”, and the entire class was in hysterics; including Mrs Briggs who was laughing the loudest. She had one of those laughs that you would recognise from a mile away; a bit like two seals arguing. The comment hurt me and embarrassment embraced me with both arms as I looked down at my desk and found the voice to reply, “But erm…I can’t see.”, which did nothing but send the class into even more hysterics. Without a grain of control tears rolled down my eyes, but I wiped them rapidly in order to hide my hurt whilst slowly taking deep breaths to stop them from running down my face again. Someone then came over to my desk and said, “Here is your sheet.” I then realised it was Mrs Briggs. I felt the sheet of paper expecting Braille to greet me but the sheet was completely plain. In confusion I stated, “This sheet is blank, ma'am”, and my response was just 24 students laughing along with the laughter of 'Seal Woman', Mrs Briggs. Through the whole lesson I was forced to sit silently and wait patiently for the lesson to end because I was not involved any more. No questions were being read out, and my Braille sheet wasn’t handed to me; frustration is not the word, I was angry. After about 50 minutes, the lesson was over and class was dismissed; once that bell went everybody rushed out of the lesson, but I waited until everyone left so I could take my time to leave. The room was quiet and all I could hear was Mrs Briggs turning over papers and breathing heavily; she then broke the silence with, “Hurry up child and get out!”, I began to rush to get up and head for the door; in a panic I dropped my bag, tripped and fell. As I fell the tears raced to my eyes and gushed out my face; so I just stayed down crying for a while. The page turning and heavy breathing stopped as I cried, then after about 10 seconds, two feet stormed out of the room; I assumed it was Mrs Briggs.