The girl sat in front of the computer while looking out the nearby window wishing she was like the people she saw outside. She looked the same as everyone else did. She acted like everyone else did. Yet there was something so different about her. She lived for the day. Daydreaming of great things. A successful career, many awards for her great writings, and a lover that accepted her for who she was. She loved odd and unusual things. Lived a normal but unusual life. While other kids got their joys from listening to the latest teen singer, this girl got her joys from listening to singers from long ago. People found her odd because of this. Along with many other things. Including her strong love of the things that people can only find in Sci-Fi movies.
For years she tried to make herself one of them. For years she hated herself for being different. Even today she hates herself for being different. She hates herself for coloring outside the lines. She wasn’t always like this. At age three its hard to determine if a kid’s going to be an outsider but by age five it slowly becomes noticeable. She knows this because this is how she was. Even in kindergarten she stood out. As she grew she became more and more weird. Today she looks very much like John Lennon in a way. Sounds like a man and in the cyber world she can be easily mistaken for a man. She doesn’t mind this. But in a way she does because most places she puts female instead of male.
At age thirteen she faced another road block. Coming to terms with her sexuality. While other teenage girls found Zac Efron hot, she preferred stars that were much older than her. Female stars. First she labeled herself bisexual because she was very much insecure and angry with herself for this thing. Her parents would accept her no matter what gender she found attractive. Still she found herself hard to live with. Her image on life grew darker. She felt alone. She battled depression and still does to some extent. She is an oddball. A pimple on the face of society is how she views herself.
She looks at the words in front of her. Still ashamed with herself. Why couldn’t she be normal? She asks herself. She may never know. Some days she wants to be normal, other days she is proud of her uniqueness. Proud to be different. The feeling of being proud quickly leaves her body like a cold.
She sighs and begins to type the final words of her short story. These words mean so much to her even if they are only in font 12. She laughs a sad, lonely laugh. Like the sense of being proud, her laugh quickly passes through her system. She wishes she could put this laugh in a jar to save for lonely days. Laughs come to the girl so rarely. And when they do they sound so dry and like paper.
Her story comes to a close. She smiles at her paragraphs and types the five words that appear in her title. Life is a cardboard box.
Thank you for your time
