....
She was a teenager.
Just a teenager.
But she shouldered the world.
She heard the things that went on in other countries, those people who were starving, those who were victims of rape and murder. It helped sometimes, realizing some had it worse.
But that only worked for a little while.
She could look out the window and see those people walking, walking with ambition, knowing what they were going to do. And those others, some that walked in twos, others in three or even larger groups.
They were the word that seemed forbidden to her. Unlikely, confusing, bringing so much baggage she was never sure she could handle it.
The outside world laughed and had a good time.
She stayed in her bed, watching tv, reading a book or playing a game. Anything to keep her from remembering those people outside.
She saw some people every day. She wanted more than that. She saw them at lunch and at dinner. Sometimes they walked to class together. Occasionally they would smile. But it was usually quiet. They didn’t invite her for more. She would ask, sometimes, when the loneliness took her and she wanted so desperately out. But no one seemed to pay any mind, and they were too busy with their own lives.
She had a roommate, one that seemed so in love and one of those people from the outside.
She usually didn’t see her.
When she did, she tried hard to be…something. But she was usually too tired or busy.
She missed her cat. He was unjudging, sleeping soundly and she could love and love it. But her family were taking him away. Another was born into life, pushing her up the ladder against her will, removing her from the haven of her mother’s love.
Her mom didn’t call her anymore. She called, but she always seemed bored.
She was told she was angry. But she was only hurt. She kept that anger as mask against the world. She didn’t want the wounds to be any deeper. Sarcasm was her only shield. One that she didn't know how to take down.
She didn’t blame anyone.
Well, she did sometimes. But she knew deep inside, it was her fault too. She couldn’t understand people and no one understood her. She tried to tell herself that it’d get better. One day someone would see. She often dreamed of that someone, white knighting her away. But when she woke, she only had her pillow and the next grim day.
She wanted love, she wanted it so bad.
But where love once was, only a void was to be had. The thought of it all brought nothing but pain, remembering those experiences, each one so special, and they were all gone, and she was only to blame. She took that someone else had entered that someone’s life, every time she saw a trace of that, the pain only strengthened. But what could she do? Cry to herself at night to be sure, but she grew tired of that. She tried to work it out, once or thrice maybe, but the other wouldn’t have it, seeming more bent on getting even.
She was never more sorry in her life.
“I’m sorry,” she cried, rehearsing the line, the imaginary conversation constantly in her mind. She thought of things she could do to improve, she tried to remember, make herself better, but it never turned out, and she found herself in the same place, turned to the wall, eyes wet but unable to cry. She’d never figure out this thing they called life.
She saw movies and she read lots of books. But they all just made her feel worse, from her personality to her looks. She was too fat, never too thin. Always wrong, even when she knew she was right.
She hated to argue, but that’s all she ended up doing. She wanted to stop, but couldn’t find how. She thought of therapy. She thought of pills. But she didn’t want to open up. She didn’t want to tell some guy how she felt. She didn’t want to whine about needing something for her brain. She knew really, it was just to have an excuse. Or maybe she wanted to see if she really was unbalanced as she believed all along, be right for once, and have an easy solution. She wanted to be happy and agreeable.
She found classes an escape.
The professors would drone and she listened to it all, keeping the information like pockets of treasure. It gave her something to do, filled her restless mind.
One class even introduced her to new people. People who seemed kind and interesting. But she wasn’t sure if they were that forbidden word.
There was one class she had a hard time going to. She looked forward to going, hoping this would be the day something would be solved. But instead life carried on against her wishes and she always ended up wanting to curl into a ball. She really just wanted to forget it all.
Silence was hard for her to keep.
In the shower her thoughts would wander to her failure. Every time she wasn’t doing something, these thoughts would plague her. She found herself unable to sleep. They would tell her how much she screwed up and why, how she had been dumped for someone so much brighter. She wanted to be bright. She wanted to show that person that. But they didn’t want to listen. They were happier they insisted. They didn’t want to make things better and they never tried. They didn’t care that she cried.
But they could only see when she wronged them. They could only see her failure, her screw ups, everything that went wrong. They never saw her doing something good, even if she tried and tried.
That person became unfeeling to her needs. They didn’t want to see her much more and she felt the loss so great when she thought too hard she couldn’t breathe. They didn’t care that they didn’t try to make things better. They just were so much happier to be without…. Her…
One night it was raining. It rained so hard. It suited her mood. She was numb. She was tired. The rain drenched her, giving her a feeling. Cold.
Then the answer became clear. She closed her eyes, lifting her face to the rain. The moment of clarity held, purifying herself at last. Things will be better from now. Everyone will be so much happier. And maybe, just maybe, she would be too.
She smiled when she fell in front of the car.
She only hoped the driver could forgive her and that maybe that someone so special and dear could finally carry on.
Darkness appeared and became what she wanted. A friend. A lover. Everything.
Just a teenager.
But she shouldered the world.
She heard the things that went on in other countries, those people who were starving, those who were victims of rape and murder. It helped sometimes, realizing some had it worse.
But that only worked for a little while.
She could look out the window and see those people walking, walking with ambition, knowing what they were going to do. And those others, some that walked in twos, others in three or even larger groups.
They were the word that seemed forbidden to her. Unlikely, confusing, bringing so much baggage she was never sure she could handle it.
The outside world laughed and had a good time.
She stayed in her bed, watching tv, reading a book or playing a game. Anything to keep her from remembering those people outside.
She saw some people every day. She wanted more than that. She saw them at lunch and at dinner. Sometimes they walked to class together. Occasionally they would smile. But it was usually quiet. They didn’t invite her for more. She would ask, sometimes, when the loneliness took her and she wanted so desperately out. But no one seemed to pay any mind, and they were too busy with their own lives.
She had a roommate, one that seemed so in love and one of those people from the outside.
She usually didn’t see her.
When she did, she tried hard to be…something. But she was usually too tired or busy.
She missed her cat. He was unjudging, sleeping soundly and she could love and love it. But her family were taking him away. Another was born into life, pushing her up the ladder against her will, removing her from the haven of her mother’s love.
Her mom didn’t call her anymore. She called, but she always seemed bored.
She was told she was angry. But she was only hurt. She kept that anger as mask against the world. She didn’t want the wounds to be any deeper. Sarcasm was her only shield. One that she didn't know how to take down.
She didn’t blame anyone.
Well, she did sometimes. But she knew deep inside, it was her fault too. She couldn’t understand people and no one understood her. She tried to tell herself that it’d get better. One day someone would see. She often dreamed of that someone, white knighting her away. But when she woke, she only had her pillow and the next grim day.
She wanted love, she wanted it so bad.
But where love once was, only a void was to be had. The thought of it all brought nothing but pain, remembering those experiences, each one so special, and they were all gone, and she was only to blame. She took that someone else had entered that someone’s life, every time she saw a trace of that, the pain only strengthened. But what could she do? Cry to herself at night to be sure, but she grew tired of that. She tried to work it out, once or thrice maybe, but the other wouldn’t have it, seeming more bent on getting even.
She was never more sorry in her life.
“I’m sorry,” she cried, rehearsing the line, the imaginary conversation constantly in her mind. She thought of things she could do to improve, she tried to remember, make herself better, but it never turned out, and she found herself in the same place, turned to the wall, eyes wet but unable to cry. She’d never figure out this thing they called life.
She saw movies and she read lots of books. But they all just made her feel worse, from her personality to her looks. She was too fat, never too thin. Always wrong, even when she knew she was right.
She hated to argue, but that’s all she ended up doing. She wanted to stop, but couldn’t find how. She thought of therapy. She thought of pills. But she didn’t want to open up. She didn’t want to tell some guy how she felt. She didn’t want to whine about needing something for her brain. She knew really, it was just to have an excuse. Or maybe she wanted to see if she really was unbalanced as she believed all along, be right for once, and have an easy solution. She wanted to be happy and agreeable.
She found classes an escape.
The professors would drone and she listened to it all, keeping the information like pockets of treasure. It gave her something to do, filled her restless mind.
One class even introduced her to new people. People who seemed kind and interesting. But she wasn’t sure if they were that forbidden word.
There was one class she had a hard time going to. She looked forward to going, hoping this would be the day something would be solved. But instead life carried on against her wishes and she always ended up wanting to curl into a ball. She really just wanted to forget it all.
Silence was hard for her to keep.
In the shower her thoughts would wander to her failure. Every time she wasn’t doing something, these thoughts would plague her. She found herself unable to sleep. They would tell her how much she screwed up and why, how she had been dumped for someone so much brighter. She wanted to be bright. She wanted to show that person that. But they didn’t want to listen. They were happier they insisted. They didn’t want to make things better and they never tried. They didn’t care that she cried.
But they could only see when she wronged them. They could only see her failure, her screw ups, everything that went wrong. They never saw her doing something good, even if she tried and tried.
That person became unfeeling to her needs. They didn’t want to see her much more and she felt the loss so great when she thought too hard she couldn’t breathe. They didn’t care that they didn’t try to make things better. They just were so much happier to be without…. Her…
One night it was raining. It rained so hard. It suited her mood. She was numb. She was tired. The rain drenched her, giving her a feeling. Cold.
Then the answer became clear. She closed her eyes, lifting her face to the rain. The moment of clarity held, purifying herself at last. Things will be better from now. Everyone will be so much happier. And maybe, just maybe, she would be too.
She smiled when she fell in front of the car.
She only hoped the driver could forgive her and that maybe that someone so special and dear could finally carry on.
Darkness appeared and became what she wanted. A friend. A lover. Everything.