the little man.

Mar 10, 2012 19:47


7 years ago.

Peer evaluation. A little piece of paper was being passed around, among them all, excpet me. I began to think. Like I always do.

Did I do something wrong? Surely they are not talking about me, when I am just sitting here too? Maybe they are going to pass it to me too. Maybe. Maybe after him. I am surely too sensitive, this time too?

I waited. And more thoughts came through my mind. I always hoped that an implant can be placed into my brain, so that I can just turn it off for a while. It was just too noisy sometimes. To make matters worse, the little man appeared again. He was chatting non-stop, as usual. I don't need him to be here, not now.

Sure, he was the only one who talked to me while I walked to class alone, stayed in the classroom during lunch break alone, went home alone. I do appreciate his presence, but sometimes he just makes me feel bad.

"See, that girl is rolling her eyes at you again. She hates you, you know it yourself," he would say.

"Ahh it's time for him to turn off the lights again! He just don't care if you are still in the classroom"

"They are still laughing at you please. When you did something so embarrassing."

He was't always right. Sometimes I do feel that my friends care for me. They made me feel included. They always ask me to be in their group. Even if they give each other "the eye"before asking.

"Go on then, go take the piece of paper and see it, for yourself! You never truly believed me, do you?" He now say. I wished I can just prove him that he is wrong. Maybe this is a chance.

While everyone was busy packing and returning to their seats, I quietly slipped the piece of paper into my pocket. They couldn't find it. They were scared. They searched high and low for it. They asked me if I have seen it. I said no.

On the way home, I opened it. It was just like opening up myself alive, too.

"What mark are you all going to give her?"
"Why is she writing so much, anyway?"
"Go peep at what she wrote, not like she contributed a lot"
"Wahlao eh. Thick-skin."
"Go peep!"
"Hello that's not news."

Somehow tears just came. I cried on the way home. Even when there were so many people around. They never asked me to. Should they have done so, I would have done it, without fail.
But I should have asked them instead, not wait for them to ask me.
It was all my fault.

I hated myself. I hated school. I hated life. The little man was right.

It was just him and me after that. He understood me most.

And then I left him. I transferred school. I started anew. I opened myself up. I did more work than anyone else in a group. Sometimes friends came to me and complained about someone else. My response is always the same. It doesn't matter. I can do it. My parents were home more often. I started talking to them.

I can never forget how it felt like to have the little man around. To feel lonely. To feel like there is no one to trust. Even 7 years later. I hated it. Very much.

Which is why it really scares me, now that he is back.

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