change

Change is my biggest fear. I hated new shoes, new sheets, new anything. I have tried so hard to be normal, but I am not normal and I never will be. My whole life I have been the one people stare at, the name whispered behind backs, the person who is just a little bit different. But I have grown used to it and it doesn’t bother me because it’s not different. It’s something I’ll always have to deal with and it’s something I have accepted. I can’t walk near bins, I can’t use public toilets and I’ve never been shopping. My name is Holloway, Holloway Cotswold.
It took me 42 days to eventually pluck up the courage to start my new school and it took me 413 seconds to walk out. The constant hiss of chatter made my head pound, I could feel my heart beat when I clutched it, the damp musty smell of 28 combined body odours intoxicating my nose; I began to count my fingers over and over again. The hiss infecting my brain slowly ate away at my patience, still counting my fingers. My teacher raising his voice trying to be heard, still counting my fingers. The shouting and laughter manipulating my every thought, still counting my fingers. Don’t panic, stay calm. I clasped the table, the counting wasn’t working. My fingers ran over every piece of gum, some moist, some hard; it reminded me of when I was six- my first pack of chewing gum. I unwrapped each piece uncannily, ‘naked gum’ – I smiled. I chewed every piece only 16 times as not to lead myself into the disappointing after taste of nothing but a rubbery substance hoarding my mouth. I was hooked.
256 seconds, my head still firing away. My hands were shaking uncontrollably; sweat sweetly trickled down my back, I leant forward. Pure anger was bubbling inside, I didn’t know where it was coming from, I could feel my palms dampening as I scratched away at my knuckles. I felt inhumane, I looked around in a desperate search to find someone, someone who looked how I felt but there was no one. The churning in my stomach becoming apparent. I felt monstrous, I knew I wasn’t human. Frustration and anxiety driving the churning and the pounding. Every person sat in that room an enemy, every pair of eyes was staring every was head turned. I hated every second I sat in that room.
I ran.
That’s only a snippet of my life, a snippet of my childhood; what I went through and what I have to go through and deal with. You see being different is hard, it’s very hard but you learn to deal with it in the same way you learn how to ride a bike or spell your name. My brain just works differently to yours it’s like those cogs you get if they all fit they will spin perfectly but if they don’t, it won’t work.
I always take comfort in a fact, something that doesn’t have many different possibilities – I like knowing the answer, I like knowing where I’m going and I like routine. The only reason I’m writing this is to get people to understand that we are not different because everyone is different if we were all the same the world would be a horrible place. We would all walk around like remote controlled robots – no one having an opinion no one standing up for what they think is right. Imagine walking round a corner to see only the same thing as what you saw before the corner and before that corner and all the corners beyond. You walk into a shop and everyone looks exactly the same; there’s no colour, there’s no stories, there’s no difference.
Being different is what defines you as a person, it shows you’re bold and it shows your character. I’m unique and I quite like it, I wouldn't change the way I am if I could start again, I wouldn't change the person I have become for anyone or anything. It is a part of me.