.
.
After realising the fact that Rachel isn't coming to school anytime school, I went to her house the very next day just to hangout, I guess.
"Hey Rach, I brought your share of homework" I say as I walk in to her without knocking. A bad habit of mine. I've been told by mom that never go into a girl's room without knocking because you never know when they could be just laying around casualy or just got out of the shower.
Good thing Rachel isn't.
Instead, I caught her in the middle of mountain piled clothes. And girls say they don't have any clothes. "What the hell are you doing?" I ask as I look around the messy room filled with clothes.
Rachel give me an inaudible laugh then fold a T-shirt that seems to be two times her size. "Whose that?" I ask as I drop my school bag next to her opened bedroom door. Good to have that off my shoulder. Books aren't useful these days, books are heavy and hurtful. They can give you paper cuts and severe headaches.
I mean, I have nothing against reading but damn, those people who read the 487 pages of Divergent really got it going.
"It's mine, remember?" Rachel mutter as she sigh and fold another one of her gazillion shirts.
Owh yeah.
Rachel used to be a size 18 (US Size) back at middle school. I have to salute her though. She went from a size 16 to a size 6. Although, I'm quite concern. I'm not sure if getting twelve sizes down in a period of three to four years is healthy. I don't know, maybe I need another shot at reading Women's Health magazine at my dentist.
"How did you do it?" I ask as I spotted one of her N'Sync tees. I have the exact same one but different color.
"How did I did what?" Rachel mumble in confusion as she stood up in the middle of her piled clothes confused unable to move freely without stepping on a shirt or pants.
"How did you manage to get to a size 6?" I ask as the N'Sync t-shirt got ripped from my holding. Rachel quickly fold the shirt I was holding and threw it into a pile of folded tee shirts. "I don't know. I just did" she say giving me a shrug.
I watched her pick up her black iPod Classic and scrunched up her nose like she's searching for something. "Let me guess, you have a song for this, don't you?" I joke but she reluctantly nodded. Never mind about joking then. "Is it P!nk? Or maybe Hannah Montannie?" I ask as I took a seat on her swivel chair.
I swear, Rachel used to be the biggest Hannah Montana fan. She used to have posters, bed sheets, utensils, rug of the Disney diva. I remember in year five she started bringing her Hannah Montana collage lunch box to school. I laugh at her obsession but I ended up getting stomped at my left foot with a Hannah Montana ankle boots. Like, why is this blonde haired diva all up in my grill? I didn't invite her to my barbeque.
Get it? Moving on.
A steady slow -like beat, beat through her speakers. At least it's not Hannah Montana, I thought.
It started. I stare at Rachel who by the way have her back towards me and is nodding through the songs' first line.
"Put your makeup on,
Get your nails done,
Curl your hair.
Run the extra mile,
Keep it slim,
So they like you..."
Colbie Cailat. Classic.
"So, this song inspires you?" I ask confused. "No offence, this song -in my perspective - means to love yourself no matter what. You're suppose to love your body no matter what size you are. I think you suppose to do the opposite of what you did" I continue.
I've heard this song before. Everybody does. It's a song girls love to hear but never fully agrees on because obviously, their flaws are not easily accepted.
"This one- This one is a song, I personally never agree on. Never have I ever agree on songs like this. I bet most people would agree with me. It's hard to accept who you are" Rachel say almost hearing a crack in her voice like the other day.
"Why can't you? I've accepted myself, i bet a lot of people do" I say spinning around on her wheeled-chair with both my hands up like I'm on a rollercoaster.
"You don't get it, do you?" Rachel ask in her 'you obviously don't get what I mean' tone.
"By the tone of your voice, i don't think I do" I say but it came out like a question. Great, now I sound like an idiot. Or dumm like what my great-german-grandfather call footballers who is stupid for missing a penalty.
Rachel sighs as if she's babysitting a seven year old boy who doesn't want to do anything but play video games. "Most people especially young adults like us will never feel satisfy of themselves. Even when they say they do, they don't. Deep in their barren hearts are wishes that they are willing to wait. The poor wants to be rich, the rich wants to be richer. It's a never ending cycle" she started before pausing to take a deep breath.
"Songs like this will be in your head for a while but when someone push you down into the pit of your life, it doesn't mean a thing" she say as she push the drawer under her bed in that was filled with old clothes.
"You don't have to change a single thing--"
The music cut short with a smug looking Rachel "Bullshit" she spat as if the song talks. Well to her, yes. "Society clearly shows that we do need to change. I mean, look at me" she says in obvious at her now small body.
It's true though. People made this kind of song just to make us feel better for a while even though in reality, it doesn't mean a thing to some people. Like Rachel.
.
YOU ARE READING
Lyrics -DISCONTINUED-
Short Story"Life is like a song. It's up to you to figure out the meaning behind it" Join Kian Burrow as he figure out his childhood best friend's teenage life without him through lyrics of her favorite songs.