I would greet you “Hi Minah”

And you’d reply “Hi”. You wouldn’t even say my name.

And we’d spend the rest of our walk to school in silence. We’d get to your locker and I’d just watch to struggle with your books. I’d notice the fresh wounds on your wrist.

I’d ask “Do you want help?”

You’d reply “I’m okay” and the next second you’d drop all your books.

You’d stare at your books lying on the floor and just have a mental blank. I’d walk over and pick up your books for you and offer to carry them to class. You’d keep your head down, afraid to feel shame and embarrassment if you looked up. But the thing is that you’d have nothing to be embarrassed about.

You’d say to me “Why do you even try? I can’t even carry my own books. Why do you care so much? You’re wasting your time.”

Every time you talk about yourself to me, you put yourself down, you say things like how worthless you are and how you wished you’d fall asleep and never wake up. Every time you tell me this it would kill me a little inside to know how little you value yourself. It kills me to see that you care less about yourself every passing day.

I’d still carry your books to class and drag you along with me. You’d just follow my lead because you don’t have anyone else to rely on. When we sit in class, sometimes you’d copy the notes, sometimes you’d just draw in your book and sometimes you’d just stare into space. So often I’d look over to you hoping to see you smile, even the tiniest bit. But I always have my hopes too high because I’ll see you on the verge of tears.

During our break times we’d sit in the garden and while I’m eating my sandwich you’re sitting there eating nothing but in your hands is the fruit salad or the peanut butter sandwich I brought you.

Every day I bring you fruit salad and a peanut butter sandwich. In the fruit salad I put in more watermelon because I know you used to love watermelon, I don’t put in kiwis because I know you’re allergic to them and I slice the apples really thin because I know that your jaw hurts when you chew large chunks of food. The peanut butter sandwich is just the spread on white bread because I know you don’t have a very broad palette and you don’t like to try anything new.

I’d ask you why you’re not eating and sometimes you’ll reply “I’m not hungry” and if I’m lucky I’ll see you take a bite or two. When the bell rings you take the food back to your locker and put it in your bag. Every day I hope you take it home and finish it instead of throwing it away.

When it’s time to go home, we’d walk again in silence. When we get to your house I’d invite myself in and we’d sit there and watch TV or just do nothin