The Watchers.
Ever felt as if you’re being watched? As it happens you are.
Loneliness. It’s something people run from, fear even. Yet for me I find a degree of comfort and solace in my loneliness. Socially I have always struggled, actually struggled is an overstatement. To tell the truth my social life had been nothing other than a string of failures. But then who would want to be friends with a boy with an appearance as peculiar as mine. I wield a curly mop of ginger hair; this puts me at an immediate disadvantage. Although to prevent myself being too discriminatory towards gingers, statistically about one in ten will turn out to be actually quite popular. I just don’t happen to be that ginger. Then again, even if I wasn’t ginger my numerous over faults restrict my ability to be prime friend material. For a boy of sixteen I’m incredibly tall yet incredibly skinny. Not a potent mix. I stand out like a gingerly inflamed sore thumb.
The school bullies remind me daily that I’m buck toothed. They have even gone to the trouble of naming me the ginger stallion; apparently I resemble a ginger horse. I guess they have a point. My face is gaunt, the skin tight against the bones that jut out at unusual angles. Thankfully my nose is just a standard nose, perhaps a little long but I’ve always assumed that’s how a boys nose was meant to be. Or maybe that just enhances my horse like comparisons. Well my eyes, as it happens I like my eyes. They are by no means normal but that surely comes as no surprise. My eyes are green, bright green, sharp green even. Also I have good eyesight, don’t forget this seemingly minute detail. It’s my eyesight that got me into this mess.
When you’re the subject of bullying you try to become invisible, as I’ve already mentioned this was never easy for me. But after years of practice, I’m finally getting there. So I sit, as ever on my own, and I watch, I observe, see things that others don’t. Until one day I saw something I wasn’t supposed to see. I named them the Watchers. Because that’s what they are, Watchers. And they watch us. Have you ever felt as if you’re being watched? As it happens you are.
Oh I forgot to mention my name, I’m Gerald.
Gender:
Points: 571
Reviews: 29