Diary of Secrets

Chapter 2

Second Period – ENGLISH

“Class, today I would want you all to write an essay on a topic of your choice.”

‘Okay, ma’am.’

“And submit it to me by the end of the class.”

Lunch Period – STAIRCASE

“Dear, why are you sitting here alone?”

‘I just wanted to have some time with myself.’

“Okay, what is your name?”

‘Eva.’

“Eva, are you done eating your food?”

‘No, Ms. Evans.’

“Why not?”

‘Because I am not hungry.’

HALLWAY

“Eva, wait, I need to talk to you.”

‘Yes, Ms. Evans, is there a problem?’

“Yeah, why don’t you socialize much?”

‘Um, I don’t have any friends.’

“Why is that so?”

‘I don’t want to answer that question.’

-

24th March, 2013

Dear Diary,

I saw her today, again. Walking into the class, looking as pretty as ever. She gave us an essay writing to do. I chose, Love. I wrote about how a mother’s love for her child can be so caring, how a brother’s love for his sister can be so protective and how a lover’s love for her lover can be so loving. Though I have never experienced any of them. I have been an orphan my whole life, without any siblings. So it was hard for me to write on that essay, but I wrote what just came out of my heart. After the bell rang, I submitted my essay to Ms. Evans and left the class. I was feeling so lonely. My parents died in a car accident when I was three, taking my baby brother along with them. My mom was six months pregnant with him. Seeing them no more just made my life crumbled down. I was lost. I lived with my aunt, but she was never home. She was busy travelling the world, and had no time for her niece who was dying slowly, everyday. I sat on the staircase near the cafeteria. It was lunch, and I had no money for the food as my aunt didn’t bother to give me some. I was starving. And then I heard that same angelic voice again. I turned and saw Ms. Evans standing on top of the staircase. She came and sat beside me. I wondered why she was here. Obviously she had money, due to what school used to pay her, so she could easily have food right now, even sit and laugh with her fellow acquaintances. But she was here. She then asked me why I was sitting here. I just told her the truth that I wanted some alone time with myself. I then heard her asking my name. Did I hear that right? I told her my name after moments of hesitating. Because not many people bothered to ask my name, they already knew. She then asked me why I didn’t had any food. I lied to her, and told her I wasn’t hungry. Because after knowing the truth, she would definitely show some pity on me by buying me food. And thinking of food, just made my stomach churn. I was trying to hold back my tears, because I didn’t want her to see them. Cause after crying, I would have end up telling her about my oh-so-pathetic life. She would probably think how much of a mess I am. And end up sending me to a foster home. I knew how life was there and I could never see myself ending up there. So I excused myself from her and went to the library. I sat at the back, indulging myself into the books. I wondered Ms. Evans wouldn’t end up here again, but silently wished her to be with me. The bell rang and I was about to leave school, when I was stopped by her again, in the hallway. She called my name, so affectionately, I melted right there. She then told me she wanted to talk with me. I figured she must have got to know by some teachers about how pathetic I am and take out a stick and beat the shit out of me. I even mentally prepared for the beatings and those harsh words that were about to come. But instead she just asked me why I didn’t socialize much. I told her a semi-truth about having no friends. If only she knew why no one didn’t bother giving a glance to me. Her asking me that, only meant no one told her. I thanked silently to them, for not spilling out the truth. I harshly replied to her answer, because I didn’t want her to know anything yet. She was being so caring to me. This time, I couldn’t hold back my tears, and ran out of the school. I cried until I reached home. I regained myself, by taking a shower. That really did help. And now I am lying on a tiny rag in my small room, writing all these to no one. Yeah, I didn’t had a bed. As I lay down here, thinking and writing about my life, I thought about Ms. Evans. And how we keep meeting each other at certain circumstances. She was making it hard for me to hate her.

Love,

Eva.