A Literary Journal For
Aspring Young Writers

Numbers

I’ve never liked math.

I never understood the simplest concepts. Maybe I just never cared enough to try. I disliked it all the same, numbers on a page always making my head spin.

“When am I ever going to need to know this?” I would ask. “Math is important,” they would begin, “you are going to need it in everyday life.” I would roll my eyes and shake my head at the possibility I would ever need what they forced me to learn as I sat in a classroom for hours upon hours.

Turns out, they were right.

I never would’ve thought the very numbers I once despised would control my entire life.

In fact, I used to do everything in my power to avoid numbers and now I find myself searching for them.

I see numbers everywhere, on crinkled plastic, sweet bars and colourful boxes. I see them written in bold against the sleek grey of a scale. I see them projected on myself, where everyone can see. Where everyone can see how much I love those numbers.

Just like how I did in class, I sit in silence. Struggling. Just like before, nobody notices me, nobody asks me if I need any help.

I can’t bring myself to ask for help. Even though I shouldn’t be, I’m fine with struggling. It’s not that important anyways.

The funny thing about math is that the longer you leave asking for help, the more and more you need it. If you can’t understand the basics, how are you supposed to survive later on?

I used to joke that math was going to kill me someday.

I never thought that that could come true.