The first five years of my life I lived in a different world than the rest of it. I lived in a bubble. I lived in a country mansion. The house was huge and I was surrounded by people who would give me things. A man who would give me food. A woman who would clean the house and leave a piece of candy on my pillow if I had done a good job of keeping my toys in order. A man who would drive me to everywhere I wanted and then carry the bags. Sometimes he would even lift me on his shoulder and carry me around like a parrot. Often he would make fun of the ice cream stains on his uniform, but he was always laughing so it wasn’t serious.
And I had a woman who I called mama. The woman who would play with me, give me lessons. She would dress me, bathe me and read me stories and tuck me in at night with a good night kiss. I never ever stopped to think how we looked so different. My hair was brown and hers was golden, my eyes were brown and hers were pale blue.
I really thought she was my mother back then. I would call her mama, but she would insist that I should call her by her name which was Rosalie. I tried to do that, but when I called her mama she never got too mad and no one seemed to think it was a problem either.
Not until one day it all ended. The whole week was filled with this nervous buzz. The cook would throw good food in the trash if it wasn’t perfect. The lady who cleaned the house would forget to leave the candy because she was too busy cleaning. The driver would suddenly get more upset about stains in his uniform.
And Rosalie was more nervous than usual. She was more persistent that I not call her mama.
And then the day came. I had been bathed and dressed in my finest dress and my hair done pretty. Rosalie didn’t let me play outside or get any dirt on my shoes or dress. I just sat by the window and looked out. I was so bored. And then a car drove in front of the house. I perked up and saw a tall skinny woman step out of the car. She had a white tight dress on and heels. And big sunglasses on her face. Rosalie took me to the lobby to stand and wait for the woman to come in.
I was perplexed as to why was Rosalie standing in a line with the other people in the house and yet I was to stand in the middle of the lobby for some reason.
I was nervous too suddenly. And as the woman came in I could hear the clapping from her shoes against the hardwood floor. A cloud of smell was floating around her. It was so strong I wanted to vomit. The woman looked so artificial and fake and scary to me. It took me everything I had not to run to Rosalie for safety.
The woman stopped in front of me. Bended herself down towards me so that I could see my own reflection in those black lenses that made her look like a praying mantis. “Oh aren’t you just cute. I could just eat you up.” She said to me and those words sent me into panic. I dashed to Rosalie and hid behind her skirts. “Mama! Don’t let her eat me!!” And the room fell silent. I remember the tension still in the room. I was taken to my room and I didn’t know why. As I pressed my ear to the door I could hear allot of screaming. The strange woman was arguing with someone who was much silent. And then I heard a loud bang before I heard running steps. And Rosalie dashed into my room, rushing to hug and kiss me. She was crying but wouldn’t let me go. She just whispered in my ear and told me to be brave and behave myself no matter what.
And later that evening another car came. A man in it this time. I saw just a flash of him before he was whisked away by the Mantis. Again she was shouting. I was hiding in the upstairs landing. Watching the lobby from above. Then I saw Rosalie go in and then some more screaming.
The next morning I watched Rosalie leave from the upstairs window. She didn’t turn to look up at me. Although I am sure that she must have heard me banging the window and yelling.
The next day it was the woman who cleaned for us, Martha, who came to dress me up and get me ready. I was taken down to the living room that was filled with even stranger people and cameras and lights. The Mantis was sitting on the couch all prim and proper again and the same stench reeking from her. As I was put beside her she put her hands around me and tried to hug me. I pulled away and tried to run away but I was caught and brought back to the couch.
The man who had come last night sat beside me too so that I was trapped between him and the Mantis. I tried to wiggle away but his fingers were wrapped so tightly around my arm that it brought tears to my eyes. The Mantis then gave a light laugh and said that I was nervous of the cameras. Somehow that was funny to everyone but me. I wasn’t afraid of the cameras. I hated the Mantis and this man who was holding me like a crow in his grip. So I bit him and ran off.
Martha ran after me and attempted to calm me down. She told me to be brave and just smile and the photo shoot would be over. I started crying and refused to come. I think that I was shouting too since the Mantis appeared suddenly and grabbed my arm. Her devil red nails digging into my skin, stinging like crazy. “If you quiet down I shall get you a puppy! Allright sweetheart? Now come along!” She hissed to me. I think I stopped crying because I was so scared of her rather than wanting that puppy. But true enough they took their photos and I got to hide back in my room.
The man and the woman left that evening on separate cars. And some days later the woman returned with a puppy. A white poodle with a pink bow on it. I named her Rosalie which seemed to annoy her. She then took me with her. We moved to the city which reeked even worse than she did and was so much noisier than my previous home.
I eventually learned that this woman I hated so much was my real mother and the man who barely visited home was my real father. Mantis was suddenly very involved with me, but soon gave up when she understood that I didn’t want to spend any time with her. And so she begun hiring an unending line of nannies and private tutors for me. Never letting me getting close to any of them. My only friend and companion was my little Rosalie to whom I could talk and share my feelings with.
When I started school I felt so out of place there among all the rich and famous children. I didn’t care to have the latest fashions or trends. It made me easy target for teasing. I didn’t mind it much, it was just petty. And I had Rosalie and other animals to keep me company. Until one day it came apparent to me that perhaps it wasn’t so normal for people to be talking to their pets. A school mate caught me talking to a squirrel on the school yard and filmed it on her phone. Soon enough it was spread among the school and I was made a laughing stock. For the first time ever I was ashamed to talk to my only friends that were the animals. I still spoke to Rosalie, my dog. I don’t think I would have managed to go to school anymore otherwise.
I kept begging the Mantis and my father to move me to another school, but they kept telling me to bare it. That the school was an elite one and they had gone through so much effort to get me enrolled into it. So I had to keep going there although I had to go through ridicule and humiliation almost everyday and nobody seemed to care what it made me feel like.
Years went on and then one day a paparazzi caught my bullying on film. I was taken off school suddenly and put in home schooling. I was happy for a time. Until my tutoring was given to this horrid woman who couldn’t help but to stick her nose into my business.
To her my wild manners were a problem to be fixed, and soon she found me talking to Rosalie. She didn’t get me to stop that though, I was determined to keep Rosalie and keep talking to her. Until she involved my parents into it. Suddenly one day mother took Rosalie to the vet to be put down without my knowledge. I was devastated. No, perhaps more than that. As I was given the box that had the remains of my beloved pet it felt like something suddenly snapped in me. I don’t remember much, just the rage I felt. I was institutionalized. I can not say that it was without merit. I saw pictures of the scars that I left on my mothers face. I heard that she had to stop acting because no one would hire her anymore because of them. And honestly I am glad about that. She deserves it.
I went through anger management therapy and as I was released I found myself back in my childhood home back in the country mansion. I was once more my happy self. I think I could be free again in this place. I started with making few friends in there but slowly they began avoiding me for some reason. I can’t think of why, I have no recollection of doing anything offensive to them. But I was once again making new animal friends. Learning about them each and every day. Then I learned of this academy for gifted people. And I think I have a gift. At least I managed to pass through the tests, so they must agree with me.
