SHE DOESN'T UNDERSTAND
SHE DOESN'T UNDERSTAND
A/N: Please read AND review, thank you;-)
She sits alone in the grey, dusty corridor of
the dreary school. A good distance away from her are her
classmates, all chatting, laughing, discussing, smiling, their
hands falling and rising with their gestures, the muscles of
their faces always moving as their expressions change.
I've been in this building for nine
years and not a single person whom I can trust has passed my way.
Those who appear to be nice are malicious gossips, those who show
their dislike openly are equally gossipy. This school holds so
many people, so many, so many of them. But not one of them seems
to be like me, not a single person seems to catch my eye and
She wants a listening ear, she wants a look of
comprehension in a soft eye, she wants someone to ease her
I'm used to being alone. It's not
good. And however used I am to being alone, I always have this
yearning for friendship deep inside me. I help them. I don't
expect anything in return. But I don't expect to be excluded
as if I were poisonous. Am I their foe? Who am I? What am I?
She often stares at her reflection, not finding
any solution in the image the cold mirror shows her.
I only see my eyes looking back at me
resignedly, my hair framing my plain face. No, I can't get
an answer from myself. I can't get an answer from anyone.
A burst of laughter burns her eardrums.
How I would like to join them, but they
don't want me!
Why don't they want her?
Do I have something inside me that makes
them abhor me?
She doesn't know. What is she doing that
is so wrong? She is quiet, but not totally silent. She's
different. They are different.
They say each person is unique. But they are
all the same. And I'm different.
She claims that there is no man in the moon; he
vanished long ago, indeed, he never existed. She used to stare at
the moon from her window and whisper her sorrows to the man in
the moon. But he never answered. He never understood. How could
he? He doesn't exist. He can't. It's only a dream.
There is no place for dreams in this world. A dream can't
survive in a world which consists of physics and chemistry.
What do people care about my emotions? Why
should they care? I'm one in a million, no, one in a
billion! I'm nothing in the universe.
She passes her hand wearily across her drooping
eyes. Her classmates continue chatting. A love-pair stands near
her, kissing passionately.
I don't know.
She is so tired of having loneliness as her
She doesn't understand how. She
doesn't understand why. She doesn't understand. How can
she understand people if they can't understand her?
It has to be mutual.
She has given up searching. Let the long arm of
time, let the long fingers of fate sweep her along the tide of
I want to cry. I want to weep. I want to
sob. I want someone to understand me. I want to understand
The bell rings. She stoops, picks up her bag
and walks inside the classroom and moves towards the desk where
she sits all alone, an empty chair next to her as a faithful