Blind Optimist

∞ Chapter 1 ∞

“It is full of perfect scenarios and I just love it. No one can ever change my mind. Ever.” –

                                                    ∞ Chapter 1 ∞

I just arrived home from school, having ‘welcomed home’ by my little sister with such a sarcastic greeting.

“Oh, did you pass the examinations? Maybe 1 percent higher than the passing grade would do. Am I right?”

I ignored her. I got used to these. But I wasn’t able to tell Mother that I got a perfect score. It may somehow change her mood. In either for a better way, or will just make things worse.

“Mom! I got perfect in the exam!”

I was practicing those words when I was in my bedroom but then, my ‘kind’ sister heard it and screeched at the door, “Shut up! You won’t ever make her feel blessed by those perfect scores or what-so-ever awards in school because in the first place, you were just a daughter from her teenage boyfriend that left her when she was about to deliver you. So don’t make another single crack of making a good record with Mom!”

I know. I have heard that story ever since I turned three, four, seven, and up to now, I’m already fifteen! I want to argue but sometimes silence is just the best way to make things stay in proper places.

I won’t ever make my mother proud.

I won’t ever forget those words.

Sometimes, I just want to make something technologically-improvised. Something that would let me run from this world off but I know it’s unfeasible. So I just have to adapt on everything.

The next day, I went out of the house, rushing to my school bus without combing my hair. I woke up two hours behind from my usual waking up time. I didn’t even get a chance to take a glance at my breakfast.

Even those students in the bus ‘bully’ me. They throw their sandwiches on me, trip me down the aisle, kick my Dora-sized backpack, and put gums on my seat.

At first, I took months for me to adjust with these torture-people. But since I ride in the same school bus every single year in my school life, I also got used to it.

Some of my ‘friends’ keep on asking me why not do suicide instead? My family doesn’t like me. I have no permanent and trustworthy friends. Even my teachers hate me.

But no matter how they show abhorrence to me, there are still two persons that love me, myself and God.

Sometimes I just wish I could lock myself up in a room, stay there forever, noting that I shall be alone. Being alone doesn’t always result to sadness. Sometimes, it’s our mind’s way of escaping from too much agony in our lives.

But sometimes, I’d rather stay in school, keep myself busy with the stuffs that I enjoy doing: drawing and playing an instrument with six strings during our Arts and Music classes, respectively.

Music has always been my break out from the everyday’s challenges since I appreciated it.

One day, I was sitting under the tree, having my headphones on. I was really enjoying the Taylor Swift song, when suddenly a girl sat beside me. She was untidy... and stinky. She was crying. I decided to just ignore her but something in my mind keeps on telling me to talk with her. So I took my headphones off and asked what’s wrong with her, why she was crying.

She replied nothing but a point from her fingers pertaining to one place. That place had so many kids swinging, sliding, playing, and running around. She then spoke, “They call me names.” So I asked her, “They were just playing, right?”

“Take a look at the right side.” So then I asked, “ The one with a group of girls, giggling and whispering to each other. And oh, they’re looking at us.”

“They aren’t looking at us. They are looking at ME. Can you please help me?”

I started staring at the girls and realized something, “I can’t. They are also the girls that bully me. I am afraid of both of us getting hurt. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” she replied with a tear rolling down her face. She ran away to the opposite side of the place.

“Wait!” I tried to shout and stop her, but she had ran away.

I felt sorry for this little kid. She’s maybe about six or seven years old. I am fifteen. The bullies are seventeen. I just can’t imagine how their parents would feel if they’re gonna know that the girls they’ve raised are now the antagonists of everyone in the community. Everyone.

**to be continued** :)