I tear my gaze from my test sheet and looked at the clock. It has taken me only twenty minutes to complete my test. A new record. I think this is just because this class is more interesting to me than any other I have this semester. It is almost like I was born to understand the subject. Maybe I should be a sociologist or something.
Oh, I don't know... I probably would be put of place.
And I always have been. If my friend Lizzy sneezes in the middle of a bio lecture, I would whisper god bless you to her. Of course, she is really insecure,and she would bring it up during break, or lunch. I want to tell her, 'you're only human, don't worry about it. We have all had embarrassing moments.' But, nothing awkward has ever happened to me. My bodily functions only get awkward when I am all alone. How does that work?
During moments like these, when I have to console a friend, I don't know what to do. Talk, leave them alone? It is as if my brain runs slower... There is sometimes no right answer.
I think this is because no one has had to console me. Ever. Even when I was a little girl, nothing 'overly' terrible has happened to me. And when I say overly terrible, I just mean, the biggest thing that has happened to me is I get a small cut or scrape, and they didn't faze me. They always healed fast. That isn't normal!
What is wrong with me? Or... Not wrong with me? I have wanted to talk to a counselor about this before, but my problem never slips past my lips. I have had dreams before where I visited the counselor, bur it wasn't satisfying. I think she had basically told me, 'why question a good thing?'
How is it good to be a house with no flaws at all, all stuffy and formal when everyone else is a homey little house that is cluttered, stains, is full of life due to its flaws? A place a person can live in. I am stuck in this 'perfect' house of a body, but this is not who I am! The flaws are in there somewhere... They just can't be seen by anyone.
I blinked away my thoughts, because that is all I can do. I walked up to the front of the class and slapped my test on the table. I left with a neutral expression plastered on my face because that is the worst I can do.
I walk through the halls. My destination is the cafeteria. As usual, most people downright ignore me completely. Like... I know that is expected when you're just walking, but people seem to try hard to ignore me, like glancing at me will make them go insane or something. Or, 'drown into my perfectly blue eyes since there is nothing better to look at.'
That is what one guy has told me before... Which didn't impress me at all. In middle school especially, guys said stuff to me which were just plain... Creepy. No one even knows me.
No one knows me. But I don't even know who I am. Sometimes, I am convinced that I am what others say, and my thoughts become almost as mundane as the rest of my life.
When i found my usual seat in the caf, I took my laptop out of my backpack.
"Hi, Jessie."
He looked up from his book. "What's up Brooke?"
"Oh, same ole, same ole." That is key for, being misunderstood, like always, though he doesn't know that.
"I really don't have time to talk, do you mind if I continue?"
"No problem," I say without a second thought.
I let my computer boot up, and I decided to go into google. It took me no time to think about what I'd like to look up. I typed in, 'I am misunderstood,' and I click on the links to sites I've been on a thousand times. I don't know why I still do this, because I've already memorized the responses.
One I click on is from yahoo. A girl posted a dilemma she has. She is apparently really shy, and her friends were at a party and had told them that the original girl is really bitchy and such. But she isn't, she is just shy.
I am not shy, have never been.
Another site I like to click on is called Brainy Quotes. Obviously, the site is all about quotes. Under this topic, the quotes are about being misunderstood. When whoever spoke things like this, they no doubt thought this to be true. But if they knew me, they would know that everything I say is misleading. One says, "to be great is to be misunderstood."
I suppose that is true for me, but I don't want to be known for what I am not!
Rick from my history class catches my eye from another table when I innocently looked up from my laptop.
"Hey Brooke, how are you doing?" I smile at him.
"Oh yeah, why do I even ask, I know how you are." I cringe inside, I want to tell him, no, I am not alright, I am not doing 'perfectly', get out of my face, you don't know me, just like everyone else.
But of course the smile plastered on my face didn't budge.
"So, I was just wondering if I could look at your history notes, I was gone yesterday." His eyes are glistening as he stares into mine. He thinks he sees my soul.
I know that he was there yesterday, that is not something I would forget. I would know that for everyone in all my classes without thinking about it consciously.
But of course I am not mean in the slightest, "Yes, of course Rick." I take out my notebook, leaf through to the last page and hand it to him. "If you need anything else, don't be afraid to ask."
He takes my notebook and he looked like he wanted to sit on my table, but he decided against it, and joined his friends back on his table.
Jessie looked up from his book and mumbled, "Why won't you give him a chance? He is obviously in love with you."
I look down to the table. I have never been interested in any guy 'like that'. I want to, but I am not. I can't even deceive myself. I try my best to not even hint to other guys that I am the least bit interested.
"You will be ready one day." He said without much thought, and goes back to studying his textbook.
He just pointed out my biggest fear. I will forever live in this mind that is too 'perfect' to be human. I want to scream, but instead, I hear a ringing in my ear.
