It’s odd isn’t it? The way the world separates the poor, from the rich, the pretty and the ugly, the weird and the—normal?

But when we define normal—it could mean numerous things, what makes someone normal? Their hair—eyes, skin tone-..style?

When you arrived at Bayside Academy a small school in West Virginia—at the time you had just moved from France to America, your English wasn’t very good, you knew basic words like ‘hello’, ‘thank you’, ‘please’, and ‘goodbye’. So of course when you set foot into the school and barely knew a word of English, people took that as an opportunity to tease, and mock what they found ‘weird’—‘not normal’, ‘let’s mock the foreign guy’. ——————————————— The 3rd semester

You sat in English class, sketching in your notebook, you knew you should be paying attention but you didn’t understand most of what was going on anyways, your sleeves of your uniform were rolled up to your elbows, revealing some of the doodles and bracelets on your wrists, you had stacks of rings on a few of your fingers.

You tried to stay focused on your doodles but you felt a pair of eyes burning into your back, you turned around to see Axl, he did this a lot. We never talked before but he would stare…—but not creepily..but it irritated me. I didn’t know what he was thinking—what he thought of me. He was quiet I’ve only heard him talk once or twice, maybe a laugh here and there.

It’s strange he’s the only one within in these school walls that hasn’t dared to approach—talk, or make fun of me. He would just take casual glances at me every now and then, almost out of curiosity—or perhaps he was nervous. Too nervous to approach me—which was something I found fascinating but rather odd.