I walk along the rocky edge of Pony cliff thinking. What is normal? What does it mean to be regular, perfect, eccentric, retarded, or crazy. Who decides. Celestia? Whoever it was changed my life. I knew I was different, irregular. But how different was I from everybody else. All I knew was what everybody thought. Nobody knew who I truly was. I didn't even know who I, Screwball was.
I fling myself onto ground allowing salty tears run down my face. I couldn't help it but I felt a grin creep onto my face as I remembered when my mom found out who I was.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S MENTALLY DISABLED. ARE YOU SAYING SHE'S RETARDED?" my mother screamed.
We were at the Psychologists office because I was acting different than other children my age.
"Don't think of it like that...think of it as a mental deterrent," the doctor replied nervously.
"ANSWER MY QUESTION?"
"Yes," the doctor replied weakly.
"This conversation is over," my mom fumed as she stormed out.
Even though I was young (8) and couldn't understand the words I could understand she was mad.
"Mommy are you mad at me?" I asked quietly.
She managed a smile, "No, Screwball I will always love you."
I smiled as I remembered the memory. I was such a fool back then. I then got up and paced along the cliff's edge again thinking about when my Dad found out I was different than everybody else.
"So the doctor confirmed it?" my dad asked in a worried voice.
It was the night my mom took me to the Psychologists office.
"Yes," My mom seemed to be on the brink of tears," Our daughter will always be *different.***
The way she said different I thought it was a bad thing.
"Ha," I managed a laugh different was who I was, an outcast, a freak.
