Entry Twelve: October 9, 2011
When people pass by, walking on the trail, I try to pretend I'm like them, even though I feel that I'm part of a different world. I try to pretend that I'm normal and the only thing ruining my whole façade-besides my clothing- is an old bucket with a cardboard sign propped against it sitting a couple yards from my bench, half a foot off the path. I don't want to be associated with it. This, however, is what it reads:
Please spare change
It makes me want to cry when I look at it. I really do cry when couples drop their leftover quarters into it, when little toddlers unknowingly knock it over in their haste to run through the park. I feel like I'm ruining their day. I'm the coffee stain on their shirt. The gum on their shoe.
I don't want to be gum, journal.
But, at the end of the day I look around, making sure no one is in sight, and stick my hand into the bucket, grasping for the discarded change of others. My face heats up and my throat hurts. I suddenly remind myself of poor Fran, reaching for a broken pencil on the sidewalk, slightly smashed with the footprints of others.
"Oh," she had said. She didn't talk much, but her face lit up. She had held that broken pencil like a trophy. I feel sad for Fran and I want to help her and I want her to be happy and I want her to have her own treasures one day, ones that aren't the trash of others. But I don't want to be like her.
I keep the change in a pile by a nearby tree, covering it with leaves. I feel like a greedy squirrel hiding its nuts. Whenever I have enough money, I venture into town. I bought food and a comb once, one time a bottle of water. I'm losing weight. I want to be healthy and happy, though. I'm just not.
YOU ARE READING
Fall
RomanceThis isn't a typical love story. I didn't meet some boy and fall in love at first sight. In fact, I didn't fall in love with a boy at all. Or a girl. Not even a house plant. My name is Thalia Walker, and I fell in love with the world.
