Every night since my sixteenth birthday I’ve been having the same dream. For the past two weeks I have woken up crying for no reason at 3:23 every night. In the morning I am so exhausted and distracted. I am not the bubbly sophomore anymore. I am not the good student anymore. I don’t know who I am anymore.


My joints and muscles ache. I already grew two inches in the last two weeks. My naturally blonde hair is turning red. At first I just thought I was growing up but now I think I’m turning into a circus freak. My father doesn’t even look at me when he talks; when he glanced at me I swear I saw a tear in his eye. What is happening to me? Nobody in my father’s side have red hair. My mother is a complete mystery to me except for a few memories at the zoo. I can’t remember what she looked like. All I know about her is that she left me. Never called me any of my birthdays, never called on any holiday. My father told that she was young when she had me and she had the whole world in front of her. But didn’t I have the whole world in front of me too?


School makes my stomach turn. Every day I get the same question. “Liz, did you dye your hair” or “Liz did you grow”? I’ve been falling asleep during all of my classes and been failing of my tests. At this rate I am going to ruin my perfect GPA. I was sent to guidance to make sure my home life was okay. I told my councilor about the reoccurring dream she advised me to tell my dad and go see a therapist. Did I do that yet? No. Will I do that? No. I don’t want people telling me that I’m crazy I don’t want to see the tears in my dad’s eyes when he looks at me. I don’t want to see his pain and I know for a fact that I’m not crazy. Right?