1 The boy in the wheelchair

Imagine being strapped down. Tied down by something you do not know. You long to be able to do the things those who are free can, yet those chains hold you down. You see others run, walk, jump and laugh but you just can't. Hello, my name is Walter and I am paralysed from the legs down. I can't run, walk, jump and laugh like the other kids. And just when you thought things couldn't get worse. I am freshmen in high school.

High school like any other society is hierarchical. You are ranked by how you look, what you wear, who you hang out with, what you do, all that materialistic bullshit. Now enter me. A cripple. A cripple who from a bourgeois family. A cripple who wears hand me downs from his able bodied brother. And as you guessed I have no friends.

*Bell rings*

"Welcome class to your first day of high-school. I'm Mr. Smidt and I'll be your tutor for the rest of the year! Now lets try our best to befriend each other, okay"

Mr.Smidt was a skinny, pale man. He was give or take six feet tall and he wore your stereotypical checkered shirt and khaki pants. In terms of mannerisms it seemed he had a habit of tapping his outer thigh when nervous. He also seemed to be fond of sweating when he was nervous. I couldn't blame him, twenty-something pubescent teenagers looking at you menacingly would have made me nervous too.

"Why don't we get familiar with each other. Will go row by row starting from there. Everyone introduce yourselves." He said enthusiastically

"Hi—uhh—-I"m Christian but you can call me Chris. I'm a freshman just like you guys—-uhh— and I hope to be good friends with all of you."

Chris was latino? I wasn't sure. He seemed like a nice guy. Just nervous…really nervous. Not a bad introduction I thought. I just thought it would be tedious to listen to eighteen more of these.

"Hey I'm Sarah."

Sarah was beautiful! That was it. She was so beautiful, I do not know why but she was. I didn't care about anything else she had to say. Better not taint her beautiful image with whatever retarded shit would follow. She was a girl I could never get. The type to ignore guys like me. Who could blame her? Who wants to fuck a cripple?

After being swallowed by sea of boring introductions. It was my turn. It was befitting. I sat in the corner to avoid attention but now it seems all the attention was on me. All eyes in the room were fixated on my broken body. Mr. Smidt's, Chris's, Sarah's, everyone was looking at me. Were they expected something of me. I heard snickering within the crowd. Were they judging my condition? Going by history, this was nothing new to me. People associate values to each other. People always judge you. They just judged me harder. They judged me just to pity me.'Look at him! His in a wheelchair!' As if I could not be as able as them. Just because I couldn't walk did not take away anything from my personality. No one cares about that though. Its all about the surface. We can't look further than that. Thats why I found inner beauty advertisements a crock of shit. Keep lying to people telling them they are beautiful in the inside. Assholes.

"I'm Walter. 14 physically and legally but 45 in the mind-" What followed after that statement was silence. Not the comfortable lets-look-at-the-stars-together silence. The awkward help-his-a-creep silence I cursed at myself for making such a stupid joke. The foolishness. I wish I could roll into a ball and disappear, too bad my legs couldn't contract that much. Now they're not only going to think I am physically disabled but mentally too. Well fucking done Walter.

"Anyway. I hope to get along with all of you"

If people in wheelchairs could get speeding tickets, I would have got one. I vacated the premises so fast, I almost got a panic attack. I was trying to avoid all conversation from my class mates and focused on getting to my first class. English!