I write my moyo on a paper

*Prologue before this chapter :)

Holding my breath, I went to first block, History. I threw my bad onto the floor, and fell down into my seat. I quickly pulled my kofia up, crossed my arms, and tried to be invisible. How come when I was wanting to be seen, I wasn't, yet now when I needed to be invisible, it seemed like I had a giant neon sign pointed at me, shouting "Look at me! It's all my fault!"

Mr. Thorson started attendance, and I wished my name was magically erased from his checklist.

"Essence," he said, bored.

"Here," I whispered in the dead silence. All eyes turned on me. Mr. Thorson nearly...

I named him Chance. His presence easily expelled the loneliness that I had felt for months upon months. I did everything I could to care for him, even if it meant me missing a meal. He slept and cried a lot, but that's what babies do. He cried the most at night. To get him to stop, I rocked him gently in my arms and sang softly to him songs that my mother would sing to calm me down. That soothed him almost instantly, and he blissfully fell asleep.

It was when he was almost three weeks old that I noticed something wrong. Chance was sleeping in his crib, a.k.a. my suitcase, and I heard a raspy...

When it hits, it hits hard
Worse for you, because wewe saw it coming from the start
A blizzard of thoughts and truths buzz around your head
You can't think, it makes wewe wish for death.
Blood and sacrifice are your devotions,
but life can only give so many promotions
Soon, it will give up on you.
Give up first.

The pain it brushes against your cheek,
A touch so soft, leaving wewe so weak
The broken glass of a stained window leaves wewe praying,
He's the devil's spawn, he's recreating
What was gone for good once.
But he's not for good, he's for bad.
And bringing back what made us sad.
Life is over,
I'll make it...

Why?
That one word that everyone asks themselves some time in their life.
Why?
Always with a swali mark.
I ask myself this now. As I stumble out the bed, yesterday's horrors were sinking in like the Titanic.
My head hurt, my eyes hurt, my legs hurt. But mos of all my moyo hurt. I wanted to rip it out my chest, tear it apart and keep it from hurting me again. Why did he do this?
That word again.
Why?
I trip and fall flat on my face in the dark bathroom. To a lot of people this is just a normal Saturday morning. To me, it was like a nightmare wewe couldn't wake up from.
It hurt. Everything hurt....

Where I was stood it felt like flying. I could feel the soft breeze caressing my face and lifting tendrils of my long black hair. I smiled slightly as the wind reminded me of my mother. She was always with me, just like she alisema she would be.
I opened my eyes slowly to look at the beautiful world around me. Standing on a piece of jutting out rock inayofuata to the waterfall, I could hear the water rushing and cascading downwards. I could see all the trees laid out beneath me, lush and zumaridi, zamaradi green, only separated kwa the wide, glistening blue river that carried on the waterfall I was inayofuata to.
I...

Defined words;
Words that play roles in the exact Deadly forms that declare one as a person.
Tears written kwa the hand of an invisible Teenage nothing.
Whose words represent the world’s untold secrets,
who is nothing may write all that is something.
Yet there plays a frown of despair and loneliness,
Eyes falling through her transparent perspective, creativity a blob ignored kwa most.
There is a hollow Empty,
Yearning for something,
Misunderstood and malicious morbidity that attacks her soul in a war of mankind;
The end to everything and yet the beginning of something totally new.
Who mimics her...

That siku at school, I was afraid for possibly my life. If Blake let anything slip... I was dead. I was afraid to mention anything though. What if he decided he would tell someone? In English class, he talked to me like normal, but he seemed reserved. He wasn't his usual happy-self. Then Mateo came over.

"Hey man, why'd wewe leave last night? It was awesome!" he said. Blake looked back at me; a reminder. Apparently Mateo paid little to no attention to me last night.

"Something came up," Blake alisema exasperated. Mateo rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. Are we still hanging out tonight? Gwen wants to go see...