It's true, that woman is me. A teenage girl who suffered bitter misery at school. No one wants to make me a friend get together. Starting from the physical, appearance, family, financial condition, all have become the main topic of banter at school. Moreover, my habit of being afraid of light reflecting objects made of glass makes me increasingly popular with the weirdness. Not for fear of the breaking of glass or glass that will scratch my skin, but afraid to see a woman ugly, strange, poor and dreaming too high.
Questions from the teacher such as "Why are your uniforms ripped?" "Why are your faces bruised?" "Why are you limping?" I must answer with forced answers and do not fit my mind like "My uniform was stuck" "I was hit" "I fell off stairs". Not only for fear of answering the truth, but also shame. My feelings are sick, but it will hurt more if they pity me without doing anything.
There's no sense of confidence in me because I know I'm just a child of a builder trying to change my fate by studying at a school that should not be appropriate for someone like me. Later pay and follow-up exams have become my habit at school. In fact, sometimes my father had to take insult and beg for mercy to be able to get educational funding. All I can do is be patient and try my best in learning, because my father once said that the cause of his unfortunate is due to lack of education.

Somehow many people in school do evil to me. And I never did evil to them. What I did in this magnificent and famous school is just studying. Always trying to keep my scores that are almost never bad. I realized that my father was trying very hard to work day and night to send me here, so I did not want to disappoint him. Some people say my dad's actions are a mistake, but I always want to prove that my Dad is not wrong. I wanted to keep him smiling by giving me good news from my grades at school. Even though I'm really suffering.
Loneliness always accompany me everywhere. At home and at school. Even my school that is almost as big as the football stadium has not been fully explored. Because there are not many places there that can make me feel calm. Usually in the corner of the class or corridor I just be alone to read dull books or do my hobby from a small drawing. Not drawing a scene, a face, or a cartoon. Rather it is a drawing of clothing that I really want to have but has not reached the ability, which is also often a laughing matter for my schoolmates.
Once I felt so desperate. Feeling that my burden and suffering are getting heavier and already reaching its peak. I do not know how else I'm facing any of this. I was beginning to doubt that I would be able to reach my dream and make my parents happy. Until one day I took a very bad decision.
On the top of the roof at school, I stood on edge without any fear. I really lose control of myself. The chaotic mind and the sad feeling attacked me nonstop. It made me even more confident to immediately follow my mother who had preceded me. Just before I let go of my body, a woman stopped me to make me jerk and move away from the edge. He said, "What are you doing?" "How foolish are you to do that!" "Your parents would not be proud if you were like this!" The words of a woman really awaken me. Honey, I did not see him. He just left me after I stopped my bad intentions. Suddenly I felt dizzy to lose consciousness.
I regained consciousness in the UKS school room. The strange look of the people around me was fixed on me, as if already familiar with my weirdness. No one knows what I just experienced. But that's all I do not care about. What I care about is someone who has helped me. I wanted to see her again and get to know her more. Until finally one day I managed to meet again with him. As I watched the quiet puddle of lake behind my school to reflect, it just came. I immediately realized that he had helped me. From there I began to get to know him more closely.
The woman is called Nawala, the name that matches my favorite name. It has long brownish-black hair. Her face is beautiful and her skin is a bit brownish white. Whether I feel or not, he looks very much like my mother. So the nostalgia for my mother's presence diminished slightly as I looked at her. His appearance is very simple but he always looks charming because when I saw him, smile always decorate his face endlessly. His nature is very kind, and his speech is very soft. I really admire him.
Often he encouraged me with his positive words. Support my hobbies. Gives me some very heartfelt advice. Even some like my mom once told me. My problems at school or wherever became lighter when I was with him. He also often encouraged me to face the people who often hurt me. Although he did not help me directly, his teachings were enough to reduce my suffering at school. Some people who want to hurt me start thinking twice about doing it.
My character has changed almost 180 degrees since I got to know the Nawala. Confidence began to rise within me. I became a stronger and more understanding person in life. He is very faithful to accompany me. Always there when I'm in need of advice or someone to share stories. I feel very lucky to get to know him.
I've been through my life with Nawala for many years, until I made it through the bitter hours of school. My life has become even better. My father no longer needs to sleep 3 hours a day to pay for my education. I had the opportunity to take care of myself and repay my father. I realize all this thanks to the fact that I know Nawala.
But the more I can take care of myself, the less the Nawala is present to give me encouragement and counsel. Its presence began to decrease and decrease every time. Until one day, he was never present at all. I was worried and looking for him. But this time it is very difficult to find him. Though usually he always appears without me looking. If I had to search it would be easy to find him.
I vaguely heard the news from the television set by my father, which discusses a young man who has many branches of restaurants because of his unique ideas, a junior high school student who has won an international-level physics competition because of his remarkable interest in the subject of physics, a teenage girl who gets a scholarship from a top university in America while being a clothing designer because of her hobby of drawing clothes from small. I keep looking for where Nawala.

Until finally I found her again. But this time she looks more beautiful, her smile is much more shining and her brownish black hair is a little shorter. He looked at me so deeply. Proud. Like not believing him with what I've accomplished. I saw her again as usual, in a reflective glass object. An object I once feared.
Hello mahmoed, it is a beautiful story. Is it a personal story?
Remember to quote the source of the images you use from the web.
yeah @samic... this is true story.. but i was added a little in the story just for perfect..
yeah, very thanks for remembering me to do that..., iam forgot it... thanks nice to know you...
Nice story, the character is indeed a strong girl. Your writing skill is good, but your English is far from being perfect.
But honestly, I love your imperfection!
Thanks my friend... iam still learning...
thanks for your support.
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