In The Beginning

If only we could all become someone else just by thinking about it were the exact thoughts that crossed Thelma's mind as she sat on the toilet seat in the bathroom wallowing in self-loathe. If her mum was here she would have classified this moment as a mood swing. Thelma smiled sadly at the thought. Maybe she was blowing it all out of proportion. Maybe her cynical mother was right about her always being childish and dramatic.

Thelma washed her buttocks thoroughly and then grabbed a few sheets of pink tissue from the silver tissue holder beside her. She got up from the toilet, covered it with the lid, and flushed it. She scrunched up her nose as she wore her black high-cut briefs and adjusted her yellow high-waisted skirt. She sighed as she walked towards the large mirror in her well-furnished baby blue bathroom.

She stared at her eyes. They were so dark, only observant people ever noticed the brown in them. Most people thought they were just black so she started wearing contacts-hazel ones. The truth was Thelma never really liked her eyes. She didn't like anything about herself to be honest, especially her size. She weighed 3.5 kg at birth-a detail her mother never failed to tell her friends who were mothers or on their way to becoming one.

She sighed as she stared at the mirror. She liked to believe she was as ordinary as they came. It wasn't like she hated every part of herself. Just her flabby arms, her thunder thighs, her saggy breasts, her big feet, her nose, and her skin. She hated her skin. Unlike her flawless mother, she was blessed with the worst possible skin any light-skinned black girl could have. She had been dealing with acne since she was born. Thelma couldn't remember a time in her life when she wasn't trying to get rid of some sort of spot on her skin. But no matter the product she used, her skin remained the same: smooth but spotty.

She opened the tap and splashed some cold water onto her very uninterested face, careful so she wouldn't stain her black chiffon top. She tried to repack her locks but they wouldn't cooperate. The more she tried to put them in a bun, the stronger their rebellion against the hairband became until Thelma eventually gave up and just put the band loosely around her fair scalp.

"Thelma!" Her mom called. Thelma groaned in response.

"Yes, Mama!" She yelled back.

"Girl, if you don't come down this second, I swear to God." Her mother boomed out. She knew as well as Thelma knew that there would be some physical discipline if she completed her threat.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Thelma grumbled as she rushed out of the bathroom and went straight downstairs to the living room.

"Morning Mama." She greeted.

"Morning to yourself, young lady. What on earth is wrong with you? You know as well as I do that I have a meeting in Austin today."

Thelma was confused, "Yeah, you told me."

"I told you, yet here you are, staring at me. Aren't you supposed to be in school by now?"

"I'm going. I just gotta grab my bag plus I'm hungry." Thelma whined.

"Well, that is your problem, Missy. I better not see you when I come back downstairs." Her mother said as she climbed up the stairs in her purple bathrobe.

Thelma smiled as she watched her climb the stairs like the royalty she pretended to be. Thelma knew many people who would describe her mother as overly superficial, but Thelma didn't care. Her parents had been separated for almost 5 years. As far as Thelma was concerned, it was a blessing in disguise. Her parents couldn't stand each other, plus she got to get two different presents every birthday and every Christmas. It was a great arrangement, in Thelma's opinion.

Thelma walked into the kitchen where their housekeeper, Gladys, was working diligently. Thelma smiled at her. Gladys had been working with them since she could remember. She and Thelma had a good relationship. She filled the gaps that her mother could not.

"Gladys, I'm hungry" Thelma whined annoyingly.

Gladys dropped the bowl of batter she was holding on the counter and turned to grab sausages from the fridge behind her.

"So?" Gladys asked sassily with a knowing smile on her face.

"I'm making breakfast already." She said as she sliced the sausages on a chopping board.

Thelma frowned, "I don't want what you're making. You know that. It's fattening."

Gladys sighed tiredly "Eating fruits and salads all the time isn't going to make you any slimmer. Your mother doesn't do that and she looks healthy and fine to me." Thelma pursed her lips.

"Never mind. I'll be late for school anyway." She left the kitchen, grabbed her totes bag, and left the house.

"Mr. Joe!" She yelled.

A 34-year-old man who looked like he was using way too much anti-aging products walked out of the garage and answered, "Yes ma'am"

"I'm ready for school," Thema said politely. Mr. Joe was new, she was trying not to be rude.

"Of course!" He replied with a very awkward accent

"I have been waiting for you." He smiled.

Thelma cringed at his oddity. This man looked off for a 34-year-old. Maybe he lied in his CV? She shrugged. It didn't matter, she went through drivers fast.

They always quitted four months into it and she didn't know why. Anytime she complained to her mother about it, the same response would follow the

complaint: "Driving is a hard job Tee, even men can't do it forever."

Thelma would roll her eyes. For a woman who was big on gender equality, her mother often acted as if she hated men. Of what use is the notion of equality if circumstances and personal biases already preset you to hate one gender?

Thelma's car ride to school was quiet and uneventful. Mr. Joe tried playing weird songs but she didn't like them so she told him sweetly in her own words "Please turn it off. It sounds screechy."

The weird man immediately turned it off and did not follow up with any attempts to disturb the awkward silence. Thelma wasn't bothered. Her school was just outside the estate. She had never gone by foot though. Her father would shit his pants if such a thing ever happened.

"Have a great day Miss Thelma." Joe waved as she got to of the black Cadillac. Thelma gave a tight-lipped smile but didn't reply. She didn't like too much overfamiliarity. "Workers should behave like workers" her uncle Orion would often say.

"Ah...school." Thelma said and sighed as she stood in front of the building with the words 'Priston Hall' written in capital letters at the top of the building.

Priston Hall was a pretty expensive school. Only the well-to-do could afford it. They didn't offer full scholarships because they didn't want their 'high-bred' students mixing with the low-class. Like everything in Thelma's life, Priston was defined by class.

Thelma grabbed all the materials she had on Literature-her first class of the day-from her locker. She wasn't in a rush. She still had about 9 minutes before school would start, so she opened her coffee-brown journal and skimmed through her schedule. She bit down on her lip as she corrected and filled in the gaps of her day.

The bell rang five minutes later, Thelma wrapped up what she was doing and re-sorted her books for her class. She brought out her phone and earphones, connected them, and put her phone in her bag along with her books.

She smiled as Goodbyes by Jorja Smith came on as she walked quietly to her class.

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"Okay! So it is official. Mr. Ahmed cannot teach. God! What was that?!" Thelma laughed as her best friend, Amara, vented all her anger and frustration.

"You keep getting the pronunciation wrong. It's Hammad. You emphasize the 'h' and the 'm'." Thelma said, mimicking their substitute Literature teacher. Amara rolled her eyes.

"How has he married anyway? A two-hour class with him feels like hell. I don't even want to imagine being married to him forever and ever." Amara held her bag to her chest as she shuddered. Thelma chuckled at how animated her friend was

"Don't worry. Mrs. Clement should be back from her honeymoon next week so you should be less frustrated, next class." Thelma tried to console her.

"I pray so." Amara sighed audibly.

"Why did you come late to school?" Thelma finally asked the big question on her mind since she saw her friend sneak into class through the backdoor, 5 minutes into the class.

"I was in the library. I thought we were going to have a test." Amara shrugged.

"Gosh! You are such a nerd." Thelma said dramatically as they walked to their lockers.

"Just to be sure. We have Mathematics next right?" Amara asked.

"Yup! We have been using the same timetable for four weeks now. I'm sure you are not that retarded. Master your timetable and stop asking me dumb questions."

"Blood of Jesus! Are you menstruating?" Amara asked

"Let me know so I will know what I ought to ask next time ma'am," Amara said feigning fear. Thelma laughed.

"I honestly do not why we are friends." She said as she brought out her heavy Math textbook.

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