Date: 5/ 5 / 10
Time: 8: 20 Pm
I wasn't really keen to friend people. 'It' doesn't like it and I have come to do the same. My parents admitted me in a kindergarten at the age of 4, 'it' warned me that those people over there were no good but being a rebellious child had its downfall.
It was somewhat a moderate April I started school, I remember I saw color when I entered and instantly hated it as if they were but molecular plague blinding my peripherals with color, a bunch of idiots. I never acquainted with any in the first week, even though the teacher (Mrs. Adhima, I was quite fond of her) encouraged me thinking it might be a mere case of shyness.
After one whole week, I started to feel lonely as a child would. To live one needs to eat, breath, sleep and make company; I had all the necessities except a real companion. It left me distorted since all the kids were in pair, they refused to speak with me since they were engrossed in each other hence having no time to waste on a third person. Three is never a good number.
Lila was my guardian angel of that particular time. She came out to me out of nowhere, placed her hands on mine and made me stand, she smiled. She was the purity I was perhaps looking for and my little heart knew that too.
She asked me whether I will be her prince. I wasn't truly listening per say, no words were forming. Friend, it was the only word that was rupturing my whole being as if I will melt if I stood any longer. She smiled, still.
We became friends.
When I returned, my first priority was to talk with 'it, 'it' made that clear but as I was too excited I decided to do that later. Perhaps after dinner, I went to my room which suddenly felt unnaturally empty.
I called for 'It'.
Got void whisper of the ceiling fan in return.
To say that I was angry was an understatement. Pulling my pillow and stuffing it on my face, afraid that I might spill any time; I slept or at least tried to. Somehow I knew, 'It' is never coming back.
Your companion,
L
YOU ARE READING
Diary of images
Paranormal" They don't know, its real, they don't believe. They lack understanding, they say I am insane. Is it true?" Entries in a diary of a girl with a fantasy prone personality. (Image from flickr)
