Thursday, May 04, 2006 || Walking in Broken Shoes
I'm bored, thus just wrote this for fun. I don't think I portrayed a supposed loser that well, but oh well. =/
I can't freaking wait for college to start. Noooooo that sounds WRONG coming from me!
Ok, that's how bored I really am. =.=
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Walking in Broken Shoes
I hesitantly stepped out of my mother's car, feeling the same overwhelming feeling of dread I've grown accustomed to. The same foreboding feeling of fear and loss that I still, and will always, despise.
I wish I was impervious to fear.
"Have a nice day, sweetie!", mother cheerfully said before driving away. She didn't seem to notice that I hadn't wished her back in return.
I shrugged, lowered my eyes and slowly strolled towards the awfully tall, red building. Mother says I walk like an old man, which is probably true considering how I seem to perpetually slouch, my gaze permanently fixed on the ground.
As if my tattered blue nike shoes were the most fascinating thing on earth. As if.
Of course, mother doesn't understand.
"It's easier that way," I told her, whenever she gave me a lecture on my supposedly 'horrid' posture.
"What's easier? What? You're telling me it's easier to go traipsing around like a bloody hunchbag instead of a well-bred fine lady?", she huffed, with a look of exasperation plastered on her wrinkle-free, botox-filled face.
No, she definitely wouldn't understand.
She wouldn't understand how much I've grown to fear eye-contact with my peers, how much I've grown to loathe my school mates. That I was sick of seeing ridicule, or even worse, pity in their mocking eyes.
I looked up and swept my gaze over a tanned, good-looking boy flirting with an equally flawless girl and I smirked to myself. Doesn't anyone else see that all the pointless coquetry was merely a selfish game of cat and mouse? A game whose players had to be one of them.
I finally reached my locker and I couldn't help but scrutinize my reflection before opening its metal doors. I was an unusually tall girl, with small, slanted eyes and two permanently puffy cheeks. A face that was neither pretty nor mortifyingly hideous stared back at me.
Of course, it didn't help that I was twenty pounds overweight. But I've recently developed a habit of throwing up immediately after I consumed food ... A habit that was born of guilt and desperation, yet I've learnt that it's not only a habit anymore; it's a need. Yes, I would be thin soon. I must.
"Hey chubs (a nickname my chubby, too-fat cheeks graciously earned me), checking yourself out huh? I didn't know big girls like you were vain!", Linda Chew exclaimed, popping up behind me with a too-fake grin on her face.
I blushed and muttered 'good morning' before quietly moving away from my obtrusively loud locker partner.
It was the easiest way out. Always easier to walk away than to stand up for myself, to demand an apology for being rude.
If there is a god, I sure wish that he gave me more courage, then I'd be less diffident. If there really is a god, maybe someday a miracle'd occur and I'll be saved.
Saved from the tragedy I now know as my Life.
I aimlessly walked into my classroom, only to find my pretty lab partner, Serena, waiting for me. She left immediately after obtaining my precious assignment, the one she failed to complete.
Finally all alone, I watched Serena chatting gaily with her flock of friends. All of them looked so carefree, so happy...
I felt robbed. I don't even remember what it feels like to be happy and cheerful anymore. All my innocent optimism was robbed of me; I was shunned and alone.
Never a nice word to the obese geek. Never would there be a guy who'd see through my tough exterior and only see me for me. Never a person who'd befriend the weird, quiet loser ... the token freak of the year.
What sheer rapture it would be to feel accepted? How ecstactic would it feel to have friends?
Because I do not know.
I do know this: I hate them all.
***
Finally, school was over and I came home to find my house in utter chaos.
Mother and Father were screaming at each other again. Mother was crying and blaming dad for destroying her life, and dad was accusing her of the same thing. Both of them were also fighting over the custody of me, though I doubted that neither of them wanted me that badly.
I hate them all.
I ran up to my bathroom, ignoring their screams and I finally cried. Crying for the family I never knew, the friends I never had, and mostly, crying for the little girl in me that longed to be noticed and loved.
Choking, I gazed into the mirror and a bloated, tear-stained face with hollow, bloodshot eyes stared back at me. A stranger's face.
A face I did not recognise; a face I would never want to recognize.
Suddenly the Easiest Way Out seemed to clear to me. The pathway to my destiny softly calling out to me, it's enticing voice embracing me ...
As I succumbed.
For the first time in my life, I felt sheer glee and delight. For soon, my curiousity will be fulfilled, and finally, a tragedy will come to an end.
***
Mr and Mrs Lim insisted they 'never saw it coming'. Crying, Mrs Lim continuously repeated what a 'sweet tempered and obedient girl' her daughter was.
Teary-eyed, two of her closest friends at school, Serena Lee and Linda Chew described her as a 'good natured, gentle girl whom they could joke with'. They both claimed that while they had always sensed an underlying sadness in their friend, she had always merely seemed to be a passive, hard-working top scorer.
All of them were shaken and confused at the cryptic and enigmatic note she left behind.
'Once, I thought that the world would be beautiful if all of us knew how to walk the earth in each other's shoes.
Suddenly, I've come to realize that I've already forgotten what it feels like to walk in my own.'
The End
: I left the main char nameless, cause it could be just about anyone. :
Phat Culture had a nightmare at 4:04 PM
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