Where Idiots Should Go?

Molded

I should admit this myself, the guidance office isn't one of the busiest departments here in our university. This may be the same to other schools or institution depending on how well they manage or focus on their students' well-being. It may also depend on the population of problematic students as we're the ones who deal with those kinds of situation. Guidance counselors exist for two main reasons; to guide and to counsel. And depending on the number of our clients, we could either be busy as hell or just hell chilling in the corner. And most of the time, my office is the latter. When the guidance office is silent, we often share work with the human resource or with the bursar's office in the comforts of my own desk. I'm literally a helping hand since I have a lot of free time. With all these being said, you should know that I rarely have visitors.

"Henlo~"

And when I do, I just wish I didn't have them.

He strolled inside, as curious as he could be. He scanned the whole room with shaky and glimmering eyes, as if he just entered a new world through the doors of my office. I sat there in my reclining chair, fingers intertwined and pressed against my mouth. I looked at him with an emotionless and deadpanned stare but deep inside, I was already pondering what kind of a living creature just entered my humble abode.

"Umm... henlo," he said once again with a slight wave from his hands. I heaved a sigh and tried not to show that it's hard for me to acknowledge his existence. I shifted on my seat and smiled warmly, just like a normal guidance counselor.

Or a wolf lurking beneath a sheep's clothing.

"Hi, what brings you here male high school student?" I asked him. He didn't answer for a while he just blinked at blinked in front of my desk. I gestured that he should take a seat when I realised that he wouldn't answer anytime soon. He obediently followed. "I appreciate your visit."

He tilted his head a bit on the left and looked down on the papers at my desk. These were the documents forwarded to me from the Bursar's office. They're technically just students' names with their student numbers.

"Ang talino mo siguro 'no?" he said while trying to tilt his head so that he can understand the writings on the upside-down paper. I took the initiative and turned the paper to his direction since it pains my neck just staring at him. "Paano mo naiintindihan 'yan?"

"The working staff in our university have this kind of language system that we use to sort things out. In this case, we use student numbers to identify a specific student," I said, patiently explaining him the idea. But he didn't answer. He just removed his hands from the papers and rested them on his lap.

I observed him, silently. Shaky eyes, pursed lips, hands rested on his lap. Physically, he looks like a very neat boy. His hair follows the standards of our school regulations, clean and neatly cut. His uniform is properly pressed. No piercings. No unnecessary jewelries, just the digital Casio clock on his right wrist. He looked like a model student, but there's more to him than just his physical looks. I can simply tell that he's a bit different, quite eccentric, other than his peers.

"Sabi sa akin ng mga kaklase ko, bobo raw ako," he confessed, finally, the purpose of his visit. "Pumunta ako dito kasi sabi sa student handbook, dito raw ako pwedeng pumunta 'pag naguguluhan ako."

I crossed my leg beneath the desk. I was about to say something but decided that I should converse with him in a way that he'll understand me best. "Bakit ka nila sinasabihan ng bobo?"

"Kasi ayun, 'di ako marunong mag-English," he answered me with a slight chuckle. "Kanina nga 'di kita maintindihan eh, haha!"

"Pero naiintindihan mo na ako ngayon?"