The story of my life

Chapter 1

I am 7 years old. A few things you have to know... I went to a Chinese-Immersion elementary(basically a school that's teaches Chinese and English)In second grade, I had English class first, then Chinese. My afterschool teaches Kung Fu classes and there are uniforms for the classes. My school has a uniform too. Alright. All of this actually happened, remember.

I walked through the doors of my classroom and sat down on the rug, waiting for the teacher to begin class.

"It is well known that Chinese girls love school, but I didn't think Jewish brats did too. Guess you are a weirdo." a whisper sounded behind me.

I swiveled around, still sitting up straight.

There was Donna, smirking. Donna was an English girl, with English parents and bright blonde hair. She stood out in the sea of black and brown.

"I happen to like school, even if you don't so SHUT UP." I whisper-yelled. Donna's smirk widened.

"Willow Padley! Go sit in the timeout corner and think about what you just said." Ms. Johnson scolded.

I nodded.

"Yes, Ms. Johnson." I walked over to the timeout corner and sat down, thinking about what she said.

"Now, Willow, apologize to Donna." Ms. Johnson directed later that day.

"I'm sorry, Donna." I mumbled to the floor.

Ms. Johnson nodded, satisfied.

"Off you go then." she said, just as the bell rang, signaling the end of the day.

I stood up and walked over to my backpack.

I swung it over my shoulder and was about to walk out the door when Donna came back.

"What do you want?" I asked, looking at her.

"I wanted you to know that even if you think you are special, you will never be. It's one thing to be Jewish, another to be Chinese. But you are a freak. Chinese and Jewish, who has ever heard of such a thing? You don't deserve to live. You are so fat, you could be an elephant. You are so tall, you could be a giraffe. I hate you, Willow Padley, and you will have no friends, I will make sure of that."

Tears gathered in my eyes and a few spilled out.

"I-I-" I ran away, my tears falling rapidly.

I made it to the afterschool van and hurried in.

"Just go." I cried, after the driver tried to take my bag.

Julianne reached over and patted my arm while Amanda hugged me from her place to my right.

Amanda and Jules are both Asian. Full Asian.

Amanda had parents who were both born in China! I was jealous.

Jules's parents are both from Japan. 

They both get really good grades and can already speak Chinese, and they can speak well.

The van slowed and parked in front of a building.

I sighed. Afterschool. 

My afterschool is also a Chinese afterschool. They teach kung fu, so to be in the afterschool,you have to take the classes.

Another thing I wasn't good at.

I've made a list.

1. Math
2. Chinese
3. Kung Fu

It may seem funny that these things worried me so much, but they were my life.

I was bullied because of my race.

I was bullied because 'Asians are supposed to be good at math'. That isn't true.

I was bullied because I was tall and chubby, I had no balance, and balance is key in any type of Martial Arts.

As I climbed the stairs, I sighed once more.

Afterschool was somewhere that I could be myself. Well, a version of myself.

The owner of the afterschool is Chinese, and her husband teaches the Kung Fu classes.

I think she likes me, after all, she did tell me that I could be in charge of a room.

At afterschool, I am myself and not myself.

I can laugh, because everybody there is Chinese. They don't care that I'm half-Chinese.

They do care that my grades are bad. For Chinese. They say I am gifted, that I am so good at English. But they say I must have good Chinese grades, too.

So I can laugh, I can joke, I have friends, but I must remain composed.

Sitting straight, my right ankle crossed over the left, manners are essential.

I must put my hair up everyday, and act like a woman.

Today, 陳老師 drilled us on Chinese vegetables so much that my head was spinning.

"That was an easy test." Jules commented, then clamped her hand over her mouth, avoiding my eyes.

Amanda was looking like she would have said the same thing, but she remained silent and we walked on.

Tears formed in my eyes and I muttered, "Bathroom." before racing off.

Once the door was locked, I sank onto the ground, my head in my hands, an cried my heart out.

It took so little to set me off.

A knock sounded on the door.

"W-Willow?" a timid voice sounded from behind the door.

I hurriedly wiped the tears off my face and splashed water on my face. I fixed my hair and stood up straight.

I opened the door, and sighed in relief.

It was Jamie. He was probably my favorite first grader.

He's a very sweet boy, an only child.

He hugged me, and I hugged him back, crying into his shoulder.

"Thank you." I whispered as I straightened my skirt and brushed my hair.

He blushed and looked down.

"You're welcome." he replied, looking like a tomato now.

I walked out of the bathroom, Jamie behind me, tall and strong.

But they didn't have to know that on the inside, I am crying because I am a broken, little girl.