“She is camouflaged into that bench and wall. Invisible. Why? Because she’s always there, as immobile as a piece of furniture. She only occasionally looks up from the book she’s reading to give a shy smile to anyone passing by. Her uniform is smart, her appearance proper and her manners prim. Why would anyone notice her?
In class, she sits at a desk alone. She talks to no one and if greeted, the reply comes in her barely audible, soft voice. Why notice her, she can’t be anything much, could she?
She walks by, on the road, her arms folded across her chest.
Oooh, how hostile.
Her expression is sober. The few times you catch her eye, a smile touches her lips, then flees as though afraid.
She is no socialite because she is not allowed to go out on her own. She did not “hang out” with friends, did not date and hasn’t had a boyfriend. She isn’t a clown in class because she follows the rules to a T. She is studious, her hobbies being reading and writing. She goes home in a private car. Her best friend is her mother.
Will you give anything but a passing glance towards her?
I know the answer is “NO”. I know because that girl is me.”
~ Been rummaging through the black box under my bed, which is my stash of writing stock from all of my life, and found this. Written in 2004... Hope you liked it...maybe I’ll write a sequel...look for it!! Ciaos for now ^^ ~
