Bars and White

Prologue

Some days were good. Some were bad. But most being bad of course.

When I told her this she laughed at me. I shivered at the hollow sound which seemed to mock my presence. Indignant, I attempted to justify my statement by explaining that there is always bad in the world and when people try to make the bad good, bad is still left over. I spoke quickly and added a myriad of unnecessary words, hoping it would confuse her and make myself seem more like an intelligent person. Much to my surprise she responded in the same manner. She said there is always good in the world and when people try to make good bad, good is still left over. Angry to have been outsmarted, I bit out that bad existed in greater numbers than good. My retort was immature and invalid but she simply smiled and said, "Well I suppose that makes you a pessimist." I didn't like her smile. It showed so much joy and shined so bright I felt as if I was being suffocated.

I was left speechless. Where had my voice gone? All my witty comebacks and replies had disappeared off the tip of my tongue. All I could do was stare in humiliation as she walked off into the rain. She left me without a word and I stood in the doorway of this silly bowling place watching her go. It was pouring outside and even I would hate to be caught in this type of storm. Yet she walked on. The rain drenched her from head to toe, turning her blonde hair a dirty brown. She didn't open her umbrella, in fact it hung by her side. It was an ugly yellow color. Too cheery and happy. And as I watched her disappear around the corner with that hideous mustard umbrella, I began to feel afraid. Pessimist was what she called me. One who thought the bad outnumbered the good.

I remember what my English teacher had said once. "Pessimists are dangerous people," she explained. "They live under the impression that evil dominates the world and that hope is a weak plant crushed under the boot of disappointment. The belief of inevitable doom does something odd to a person. It haunts a person's mind and consumes them from the inside out. They go crazy sometimes and drown in their own fears. There's no happiness. There's only suffering. That's the life of a pessimist."

I never thought how precisely her words would describe me many years later.