I Am

by Shafia K. Al-Mohannadi

I am the first daughter but the second child out of seven siblings. I laugh at people who fall. Then I feel bad. I cry when I see someone cry. Especially full-grown men. I’ve been blind in one eye since I was eight, sometimes I forget that I am, though. I am a failure at time, a winner rarely—competitively speaking. I am a granddaughter, a great-granddaughter once, a sister, a friend, a best friend, a niece, a booklover, a food junky, and most importantly, a future zombie fighter.

I am the stone people lean on. I laugh when I’m stressful. I can’t keep a straight face when people yell at me. I think of chocolate when my mother gives me one of her usual lectures about how irresponsible I can be sometimes – always in her case. I giggle when my brain is deprived from sleep. I am physically incapable of doing anything at 5 o’clock. If I was stranded in the vast Sahara desert and had to bring only one thing with me, I would bring chocolate chip cookies.

I’m almost five foot six. I currently have five ant bites and some scratches from my cat. Does it make me snobbish if I say I’m modest? I overthink. I don’t share, then I feel bad about not sharing, then I share.