Killer Tomato Surprise

The 'Tomato Surprise' is a story writing technique.

Basically, you have a character who goes about doing normal/abnormal things, stuff happens, and at the end of the story, you reveal that your character is actually a tomato!

Or a werewolf, smurf, egg, caterpillar, table, pixie. Hm.

This has nothing to do with anything. The problem is that I myself am turning into a tomato.

I've never ever ever ever had an allergic reaction before, but I guess there's a first time for everything. My first time occurred a few days ago. It started with the itches. The twitches. Then the red splodges up and down my arms and legs. My face went all funny - kind of swelling, but not really. It just... mutated, I guess.

But I am a tough cookie. I survived.

The problem was, we didn't know what I was allergic to. I hadn't had anything particularly new in the recent days. I'd started medication a week earlier, but it seemed odd that it would take so long to react badly. My dad brought sweets back from Sri Lanka, but I've eaten them before. They tried blaming Kiko, and I was like -

I know, dramatic reaction, but that was my cat they were blaming! How dare they! So I lectured my mother on how the Prophet (SAW) said that cats are members of the family, and Lilo said that family meant no one gets left behind. So no matter what, the cat stays.

Yes. So all that was left was just to stop eating some things and wait. I was on the border of completely transforming into a tomato,  but then everything just went away. And I was okay. Funnily enough, my skin felt so nice and soft afterwards. Maybe it just felt that way because of the weird bumpiness from before. Either way, I couldn't help feeling my face with a glazed-eyes look for ages. It was kind of strange, I suppose.

It reminded me of the time I hurt my leg during the epic sport of Residential Hiking (ech-hem.). By the time I'd dragged my agonised body home, my... left leg... had swelled to ginormous proportions. At first it was ghastly, but when I compared it to my normal leg, I realised that I had rather attractive legs - when they were normal, anyway. Hm. 

Oh, that was an awkward thing to say o.o

Anyway, any insecurities regarding my legs vanished.

The point, though, is a lesson I've learnt. Basically, to sum it up, it's: sometimes the worst has to happen before you realise where you're wrong.

Maybe it's already been discovered. Maybe it's a bit late to figure that out. But it was important to me. I know that realising your skin can be nice and soft, and your legs are not ugly is a bit of a superficial example, but I have another one to share.

I posted a post called 'Operation Abby' a while ago, and you don't have to read it because I'll explain now what it was about. Basically, Abby is my friend, and she's a lovely girl who gets involved in all the wrong things. Something happened along the way in her sweet life, and she started on the dark side - drugs, alcohol, and intimate things done in bedrooms. It scared me a lot because I'm not used to having friends like this - all my other friends are goody-goodies like myself.

Anyhow, the first signs of her rebellion were in the piercings. I know, people have different opinions on them, I don't really care. But she was getting them everywhere, and it was driving me nuts because she's so pretty and for some reason she wants to cause strife to all the metal detectors in the world. Anyway, because we're in the same form class, I always try to persuade her from her rebellious endeavours, and I actually managed to convince her not to get... some ring or another. Don't remember which one. Never mind that she got a dozen others to make up for it, the point is, I realised, I have some influence on this girl! I can help her! She takes me seriously.

So life went on. Enter the Big Bad Influence, Jen. She's a year 12 girl with weird priorities. She's very focused on education and she's going somewhere in life, but that's it. She's also into drugs and alcohol and intimate things in bedrooms, and although she 'controls' it so it doesn't affect her schooling, it's rather insane. I've heard the details in French class, and I don't want to repeat.

So she invited Abby clubbing and partying and getting stoned between classes. Abby's like her little protegee. She's thrilled. I knew she looked up to Jen, God knows why. 

But the problem wasn't just what Jen was getting her up to. It was the fact that while Jen had a solid backup of education and a job, Abby did not. Abby flunked school. She never studies. Even for French - she may be fluent, but she doesn't do formal. It's like how everyone can speak English here, that doesn't mean they pass the subject. There were times I bet Abby in French, and that's saying something.

I tried speaking to Abby, but it was no use. Jen just had a bigger hold. I can't go up against Jen because Jen is formidable - the kind of girl not above violence. So although I continued my pleadings during form classes, I knew Abby was slipping away. Not just on some kind of life path, but physically too. Her skin was going funny, and she smelt awful. Her hair was horrible too.

Then came the episode whereby Abby Came to School Drunk.

She did that. Can you believe it? I couldn't. For a start, it was the first time I'd been in such close proximity to a drunk person. She was the giggly type, and while our French teacher helped us work through a French advertisement for shampoo, she squealed something about cancer. It was strange.

The worst part was, people congratulated her. They thought it was funny and cool and... well, you know how it is. Now try getting to someone who had the support of what felt like an entire year level behind them. Great. In my head, Operation Abby was aborted.

That didn't mean I just stopped with her. I did talk to her every form class. Everytime we had a SAC and she came running the period before, I'd help her. I'd keep begging her to quit smoking and being an alcoholic. But now, I kind of figured nothing would change.

But then, one day, something really bad happened. Jen and Abby ditched French class to get 'stoned'. I don't know what they did - whether it was drugs or alcohol, all I heard it was 'really strong'. They apparently went nuts, throwing up and staggering, and the school had to call an ambulance to get them.

You can imagine how awful it must have been. I felt sick. At lunchtime, I was sitting with my friends, when they all started spilling how concerned they were for her. Granted, they had never taken direct measures to telling Abby what she was doing was wrong, but all along they had tried their own means. It felt comforting that we all felt the same way, so we put out heads together to figure out some grand intervention scheme. We came up with nothing, but oh well.

The next day, in form class, she strolled in, and she said her typical, chirpy 'hi', and I shook my head, like always.

"Don't talk to me, I'm really disappointed in you," I told her. I know, I sound like an annoying teacher, but I couldn't help it. That's really how I felt, I couldn't put it another way. My surprise came with her reaction.

"Don't be," she said, deflated. "I'm more disappointed in myself. I can't believe I let myself go like that. I felt so disgusting. I've already decided to quit smoking, and I'll only drink at celebrations now. That's it. I just feel so disgusting."

Those may seem like empty words, but I tell you, never, during this entire year, has she expressed regret. She's yeah-yeahed me, but hasn't been fussed by her own doings. And her expression was so genuinely devastated, I hugged her. I was so proud.

But it got worse during the day. You see, while she was regretful for what she'd done, my entire year level - besides my friends - were still congratulating her. Teasing her. Bringing back memories of yesterday. The only difference from last time and this time was that Abby didn't want the congrats. She didn't want the memories. But now they wouldn't leave her.

In English, she was with the last group to do their orals. When she got up, some guys started playing around with her, saying things the teacher wouldn't understand, but clearly insinuating to the events of the previous day. I felt sick again, because she couldn't do her oral then, and when she went back to her seat, her eyes were red rimmed and she looked so fragile.

Of course, teenagers forget, and new gossip turns up. This episode occurred months ago. From my understanding, Abby's still clean. She may go back. She may not.

The point is, no words I could have said could have struck her more than witnessing the consequences of her own doings. It's easy to list all the potential hazards of one's actions, and the wisest would be mindful and heed the warnings. But sometimes it's best to let the worst happen, because once witnessed, it has a more powerful effect.

I had to go back on the medication to see if that was indeed the cause of my allergic reaction. I started mutating into a tomato again last night. Gosh it was painful. At least now I know what to avoid.

ATM:
Reading: Skulduggery Pleasant: Kingdom of the Wicked. Derek Landy. 
Writing: Chipped. I'm working on it, I am! I think the WANwC thing is actually helping!
Listening to: ... yeah, I'm seriously considering getting rid of this ATM thing. It's kind of bothering me.
Feeling: Itchy. 
  

Peace in,
Laila