My Tree

I’m Sofia Jones and I have autism. Autism is technically a neurodevelopment disability that affects the way people communicate, process information, and interact with the world. The easy way of saying it is, that my brain and body functions differently to everyone else around me. My mum always says that being different is what makes you awesome. That’s not true, she’s just trying to make me feel better, even my sister says so. The rest of my family, well there’s none except dad but dad’s away all the time and even when he is in town, he’s at the office, that’s what he calls it anyway. I live in Omaratula and its full of bush, trees, and rivers, pretty boring if you ask me.
Last day of holidays means last day of fun, last day of happiness and the days of dread return.
Today is the first day of grade 5 and to be honest, I’m dreading it. The teachers start the day as any other first day really. First, they tell you how much you have to step up and be a leader. Then they go on and on about rules and expectations and how you pick your desks and all that. After that you label all your books and then finally it’s time for a fruit break then another hour of boredom until lunch. I have no friends, no friends at all, not one. Everyone in my grade well, I’m pretty sure they don’t like me. No one at school really says my name, except for the teachers of course, it’s all nicknames, dirty butt girl, bug face, ugly Jones, just to name a few. Lunch is still terrible, its just another way for people to point and laugh at me without getting in trouble especially for Mirra Smith. Teacher’s pet, popular, cute older brother and perfect and, well, mean would be an understatement she’s a vile, vicious bully and has chosen me, chosen me to bully, chosen me to tease.
As soon as I got home, I climbed up to my tree crying hard just as the rain started bucketing down on me, what a great first day I thought. I ran inside just to hear the weather forecast for this week…
2 days later…
The town ended up flooding, no bus to go to school, no park to play in, nothing but reading books and watching television. I still went for my daily bike ride right round the block. Everyday, I went past this one house and heard someone getting threatened to do dangerous things, it was much worse than the bullying I got at school. Even though I wasn’t at school I still got a nightly text from Mirra, saying something rude about me. After a week of flood, I went round the block again on my bike, but this time the girl and her brother were in the backyard, it was the most unbelievable sight, you would never believe who the girl was, it, was, Mirra.

FOLLOW US was established in 1997, and since then we have successfully completed numerous short story and poetry competitions and publications.
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