The Malvada Household

Chapter 3

Little Miss Mary

          Sweet little Mary, a name everyone has heard at least once in their life. The first time I heard the name Mary was from the bible. Little Mary and her son. My mother always told me that children who held the name Mary were very respectful children. My mother would make jokes on how she should've named me Mary, and then maybe I would've been just as delightful as the other kids. Or maybe I'd even be a likable child to other children. For a long time my mother made me believe that I was a troublesome child, that I was the problem, but in reality it was just my environment. The kids I hung around were nothing but two faced little brats that held their heads high to the world, allowing their God to carry the weight for them so they wouldn't be overcome with the weight of their own thoughts. But if you don't carry those thoughts on your own, sooner or later you'll do nothing but crash and burn, being bound to fail. If you give all of your problems to somebody else then is it really you taking care of them? Or is it just you trying to give your issues to somebody else? It sounds selfish. I've had a lot of questions about God, but all of my questions were hushed because no one had the ability to answer them, or they seemed absurd or foolish. "God works in mysterious ways." I'm sure he does, I say. My thoughts wander too far from the original topic at hand. Trailing back to the mindless Mary. Mind you, I never really knew the Mary that attended our school, but she looked like she was one of 'those' kids. Little Miss Mary. Poor, poor Mary. I could tell that's what they thought, what everyone thought, even what my friends thought as I approached her. Little Mary sitting on that floor, holding her knees close to her chest as if they were her new born children. I stopped in front of her, looking down at her. She looked so weak, so vulnerable. It was sad. I suppose it wasn't her fault though. I examined her for a moment before folding my arms, finding the words to start this unwanted comfort session.

"Mary."

My tone of voice was quiet, trying to sound concerned or at least somewhat, calm. A part of me was, yes. Though, like I said, I didn't know her. I felt sorrow for her, yes. But still. I expected her voice to sound similar to mine. Unfortunately, the tone of voice I got in return from her was not as kind as mine had sounded, and soon made me feel slightly regretful that I even tried to share a bit of my kindness in the first place.

"What do you want from me?"

A snarling response came from her as she looked up at me. The anger in her voice was clear.

"Can you just leave me be? I'm sick of being crowded." Her pitch got a bit louder.

I gave her a look of frustration, almost wanting to call her out on her behavior. However, neither of those options were good ones for this situation. I took a deep breath and took a step back, giving her more space. Maybe that was the issue.

"Just wanted to see if you needed anything. I'm sorry this happened to you, I know it sucks."

Mary released her hands from her legs and looked at me. As if I had called her a nasty name, or said something bad about her grandmother. God, you would've thought I insulted her.

"You know nothing about me, nor what it's like. Go away, witch!"

She shouted, her response surprised me the slightest bit at that moment. Even some of the other students turned their attention towards the commotion, a few chuckles coming from some of them. That didn't matter to me much though, it wasn't new. However, you would never guess someone like her would call me anything cruel, let alone a witch. Especially when I was doing nothing but trying to comfort her. At least, the effort was there. Mary didn't look like the kind of person to try and get on anyones bad side. Mary had blond hair that was in a ponytail. The ponytail had a nice braid wrapped around the base of it. She had green eyes and freckles that went across her nose. She wore a small sweater that held stripes on it, wearing black shoes and white socks. She looked like a prissy, literally couldn't do anything to you, type of girl. Nor did it look like she wanted to hurt anyone. She called me a witch, yes, but it didn't offend me. I had been called worse, and Witch was a name that I would hear multiple times a day by many people. I stood there and glanced at her in silence for a moment before turning away. As I turned around I let out a scuffed, "whatever," and made my way back to my friends. As I made my way back to them I could already tell the four of them had seen the entire thing go down. I mean, who didn't? She made quite the unnecessary scene. Ava and Stormy held a displeased look on their faces, Ava seeming almost offended for me. I stopped in front of the four. Their eyes would pace back and forth between Mary and I for a moment before Ava spoke up.