The girl walked along the corridors of the school. She walked through the hallways past the doors of whispers and shouts, chattering and laughter, and more voices. Walking past the others who stood around talking, smiling and speaking: their days, their concerns, their frustrations, the little things... she knew the words they were speaking, understood as they're in a language she's familiar with, and their experiences is almost the same as her own. She walked past them without a word, glancing left and right hoping no one noticed and walked along before anyone turned her way.
The girl walked the familiar path outside of school – past the stores and establishments she's familiar with. Past the people whom she both knows and those who are strangers to her. She glances left and right while hoping no one notices and goes on towards her destination without saying anything more than needed – she answered if someone asked her something, asked when she needed something, spoke when she thinks her words would be needed.
Nothing more, nothing less.
She opened the door and greeted her parents and brothers and sisters. She spoke a little about her day and asked a bit about theirs. It was all so short as there's really nothing to say, nothing to tell. Nothing else happened today. Just like in most days.
She has no friends and she feels empty. She wants to speak with no one to talk to. She wanted to fit in but she just couldn't. She's wants to join them but couldn't keep up with anything. Wants her life to be eventful but couldn't put the effort nor does she have the courage when she does.
She's not much for conversation as her likes don't match anybody else's. She can't form relationships as she doesn't understand how. She can't join others as the thing she does and the things she can do are different from theirs.
She wanted to talk to others but no one will listen and she knew she'd never listen back.
She wanted excitement but she can't do anything and is too afraid to try anything new.
She wants friends but is picky.
She's lonely because she wants to. It's all her fault and she knew. It hurts her but that's how it is. She'd just watch from the sidelines and wills herself to be content. She hopes no one notices and she hopes no one calls her out for it – it'll sadden and embarrass her after all.
She's a terrible person, yes she is. She hates others but she hates herself the most. She hated the world yet she made it the way it is: sad, empty and painful for herself. She knew her mistakes but doesn't fix them. She made everything like this and she knew it from the start.
She's alone and she's lonely but she's accepted it and her life goes on.
