A Story

She was walking down the alley bearing the weight of the world on her shoulders. Sporting her bagpack filled with kilos and kilos of books, she’s dragging herself towards her destination—home. That’s her everyday route—home then school, and vice versa. There are occasional visits to the bookstore or to a coffee shop or a hormone-induced hunting for that perfect pasta drowned in too much cheese, otherwise she’s heading home. She may not be wearing spectacles but she’s the typical picture of a lifeless geek. She’s the familiar face for many, but her name is unheard of.  Nobody really cares about her, oh well, not that she ever minds. All she cares about is how to pass her brain-wracking exams which explains her present mood.

She was walking like a zombie staring at the blank road, slowly kicking tiny stones that come her way. She muses about the number of pages that needs to be done about tonight, or, just finish a movie to relax her mind for the exam. “What would life be if I were at a party at the eve of an exam, drinking my heart out, dancing and singing ‘til the break of dawn?” She paused and pondered. She began to imagine the lights, the glittery clothes, the towering shoes, and the intense noise coming from the sound of the party music mixed with voices of giggling women. She imagined herself in the crowd. How will she act? How will she sway her hips to the music? How does it feel to have a hang-over? How does it feel to have no inhibitions, whatsoever?

And then the music died.

“I don’t belong there.” She declared to herself while picking up some few study materials she dropped in the midst of her daydreaming. She stood, fixed her bag on her back, finger-combed her hair, and continued her journey wearing her usual burdened face.

“You know what, give yourself a break” said an unfamiliar voice from her back. She almost jumped and screamed to her astonishment, she wasn’t aware someone was trailing her. As she was turning around to see who it was, he walked past her pacing swiftly. Hands on the pocket of his blue hooded sweatshirt, he didn’t turn around. He was walking fast as if chasing for the unseen.

He disappeared at the end of the road while she was standing blankly wondering who he was.