She stands on pointe, her hands in fifth position,
listening to Madam Clair count out the beats till the next step,
Seeing the other girls tiring of the strain,
Ignoring the pain in her own legs,
Fighting the voices in her head that says she’ll never amount to anything good.
That she’ll be just like her uselss mother
Words from her grandmother that she adopted herself and now had trouble letting go of.
Words she learned how to block out because of the maid, Ouma Dienkie,
Lowely in the eyes of others but filled with wisdom and love that she freely gave away,
Remembering her words…..

He sits with the pencil in his hand,
Writing in his final answers to the paper that will give him his degree,
Making sure his answers are correct,
Watching the time tick down slowly till his journey ends here,
Only to begin on a different course.
He blocks out the little boy that couldn’t read and was beaten because of it,
He blocks blocks out the dyslexia that made him stupid,
He blocks out the father that teased him and the mother that didn’t understand him,
And tries to listen to the teacher who gave him hope, books and attention,
Who taught him how to fight his disease with patience.
Remembering his words..

“They only win once you give up.”

I look in the mirror
and I see YOUR face.
You stare back at me
with deeply haunted eyes
All I have are fragments of memories
that replay in my mind…
I feel the heat creep up my neck,
it travels to my eyes and rests,
brimming on my eyelids.
I close my eyes,
trying to keep them from spilling.

I see a faint shadow,
it beckons me further away.
The shadow distracts me
to the point of insanity,
where I no longer see reality
yet still continue on aimlessly.
I am trapped in another realm,
another level of consciousness.
I cannot allow myself
to venture into the darkness
for I shall not return unscathed.

Which option do I choose?
Do I leave the dam wall to
slowly crack under the mounting pressure
finally bursting it’s walls, water covering me,
slowly seeping into my lungs, choking me,
filling me until I sink to the bottom…
or do I voluntarily open the floodgates,
releasing the power and drowning me instantly…?

What makes me so Special?
She wonders, after Oupa Dan leaves her room,
Another night spent feeling his rough beard kiss her hands,
and hard hands touch her Cookie.
It hurt a lot but Oupa’s strong hands held her still.
Her older sister was in the other room and she was much more prettier
but they didn’t touch her
“Your special” he said and she would have smiled if it didn’t hurt so much.
But Oupa must be right, because Daddy would also come to visit her tomorrow,
like he has been doing for a long time now,
Making her touch his Johnny that was thick and yucky.
She told Mommy what they did,
but Mommy said “Shhh, stop telling lies” and gently washed her eina in warm water,
“You’re just special”, she said
She wanted to run away, hide or lock her door, till mommy came from night-shift,
But her wheelchair was no match for Daddy’s big strong running legs,
and Oupa’sstern words,
So she wondered, tears rolling down her cheeks, no longer sobs or cries,
What make me so special if I feel dirty and sad?

By Jacqueline Friedman