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Can’t Stop Being a Chicken About Chicken Pox!2 min read

The ultimate nightmare for me was to get chicken pox. I thought I was way past the age of getting them. Imagine the horror I felt when I woke up and saw myself riddled with those hideous, fluid-filled, painful blisters.

I’ll start with the beginning Those were the very best days of my life- In the middle of my exams I was doing an internship with EDGELORD  in a textile industry, giving my final exams in the month of ramazan- Means I was fasting and there was also high risk of heatstroke because the sun was extra close to Karachi those days. Despite it all, I was having the time of my life.

Then I noticed a blister on my thigh and thought nothing of it, It was kinda cute and bubbly and I thought that this was because of the terrible heatstroke my skin is boiling.

So very naive of me.

The next day I screamed because I looked like a chimpanzee with a bad case of acne blisters. Those hideous beasts were all over my body, Now I know that I’m an average looking Pakistani girl but looking at myself like that- My body looked like a terrible mess, with terrible grades and my newfound social incompetence and the risk of losing two internships what do I have remaining? 

I was also working on Lucidbee4 at that time and the website renewal date was getting nearer and nearer and I was not getting any views for my blog. Heck- the ad network I was working with generated nothing for me. So I started pirating books some books on my site in my fever ridden state and justified completely with it and guess what? I started getting views, Lots of them. But I didn’t feel happy about them either which makes sense.

Chicken pox lowered my self-esteem to the level I never thought was possible. I had those severe case of chicken pox that even doctor was worried about and on top of that, I lost my appetite for a long time so the healing process was stunted too.

It was that time that I started rereading my favorite character’s POV. Celaena Sardothein and I remembered how she was torture and scarred but she wore them like prizes because she saw herself as a survivor.

By Bia Ahmed

Mad hatter in a seemingly strange wonderland.

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