Heads Turn And People Stare

• Angela Ju, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2007

It’s my first day at this school. My dad has been transferred to work here, in Hong Kong. I think it’s an international primary school. I am full of excitement as I walk into the classroom through the back door. Heads turn and people stare.
It’s my first day at this school. My dad has been transferred to work here, in France. It won’t be like the last school. I know so. This time there will be more matured students. I have no idea how many schools I’ve been to so far. I walk into my new classroom with a trace of hope. Heads turn and people stare.
It’s my first day at this school. My dad has been transferred to work here, in South Africa. I heard there’s no discrimination here anymore. But then again that’s against blacks, I guess. I just want to get through my studies. I’ll be able to graduate high school in a year. Once again I walk into the classroom. Heads turn and people stare.
It’s my first day at work. I’m not very hopeful or nervous because I have experienced what it’s like to be new all the time. Besides, I worked on my façade over time. I spray my hair with jet black hair spray and put brown coloured lenses on. It’s time for make up. The extra layer of foundation covers my white, pale skin.
Now, I am all ready for work. I have learnt to adjust to my society.
It’s been two years since I started working here. Countless number of hair spray cans have been emptied out from my bathroom bin. People are bright, chubby, tall, skinny and short. Everyone seems to be who they appear to be. I am one exception of course. I have to suit the society because I gave up on expecting the society to suit me. However, I now figure, only two days before I turn twenty-five, that I can be who I am this time. For the first time in fifteen years, I decide to give my friends a chance.
It’s the day of my second ever birthday party. I kiss my mum’s picture and get dressed. This time, no extra make up and black hair spray. Maybe the colour lenses can accompany me in my bag for a little longer.
It’s really noisy in the hall. The banners read ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY JEN’. It’s too early to smile, I tell myself. As I walk in to the hall, everyone becomes silent. Heads turn and people stare, again.
The party crowd stares at me in a peculiar way. Some are frowning and some are expressionless.
“Hey” I begin. “You’re…,” stutters Sam, my director.
“An Albino,” I announce, “Sorry for keeping it from you guys.”
The hall becomes silent. Al, my French co-worker shouts, “Discuss later party! Party!” His eyes for some reasons seem to have a tint of red glowing in them. Heads turn back and people reach for their gifts.