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In Search of Empathy
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In Search of Empathy |
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roxane Senior Member
since 1999-09-02
Posts 505us |
She smiles and tosses her hair. It's annoying. I have to sit next to her today, and I'm all alone in it. She has these long fingers, which I have touched before, and they feel hollow, like her head. Her fingernails look sickly and fake. I have to sit next to her, and I can't stand it. She's not my friend, just an acquaintance. Everyday in lunch, I try to avoid her. I want to be alone anyways, but it's worse to be with her. I don't know how she found her way over to our table, but here she is, and I can't stand it. My face is concealed in a blur of dirty blonde hair. She's staggering in and out of indolent swirls of idiotic pop culture as she amuses my friends. I'm silent, because I don't want her to believe that I'm trying to keep her nonsense afloat with thought. She peppers her speech with slang and what she believes to be intelligent terms. She'll never admit that she read them in a book she didn't understand and she doesn't know what context to use them in. I shouldn't call the people she entertains my friends, because they aren't. I've never had a friend, and these people are no exception. They're just letting me take up their time. I'm staring off to the side and trying to figure out a way to love everybody, but I think that I feel it's not possible. I want to love everybody, I do. I just don't have that much faith in humans. I just know they're all like her and so evil. My experience with other humans has been one that I can sum up in a single account: Once I had a friend who led me to believe that she really cared about me. How was I to know that I was the subject of all her witty little stories. I was the scapegoat of her social life. She made a habit of telling lies and truths about me that others found funny. They all joined in and had quite a jest of it. Hell, even I laughed. Then, at the end of a grin, the corners of my mouth fell as though too heavy to hold. I buried my face in my hands and without their noticing, I cried heartily. And everytime, it was the same, until, when I was ostracized in their little games, I started to hate them. Slowly, I came away, thought that I found another way, and realized that I was as alone as ever. Was it better to break away? Everyone will tell me so, because I don't have them now, these icons of popularity and regality who abused me and didn't care for me anyways. Then, I see them happy and laughing and I realize that I merely wish to join them. The girl reaches out and touches me with her great fake hand. It's cold and light and I can't stand it. I wish it were empathetic and caring, warm and full of human veins. With a smile and a toss of my hair, I turn to face her as brightly as she speaks her nonsense. After all, it is still SOMEONE'S hand. ------------------ "Come night, come darkness, for you cannot come too soon or stay too long in such a place as this." Charles Dickens roxane |
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| © Copyright 1999 roxane - All Rights Reserved | |||
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DreamEvil Member Elite
since 1999-06-22
Posts 2396 |
Welcome to Passions in Prose!  Well told tale of a moment of need frozen in time. ------------------ Now and forever my heart hears ~one voice~. DreamEvil© |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
Indeed, well intentioned message roxane. |
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Nicole Senior Member
since 1999-06-23
Posts 1835Florida |
You paint a very clear picture, I could see this vividly. [This message has been edited by Satiate (edited 09-29-1999).] |
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