Too Close To Home (Camren)

Chapter 20

A/N: Let's fix our hearts with a double heartbreaking update. I feel bitter and let's fuck this shit up.

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If you wanna know the date that shows major changes, it's April 17th.

...

April 17th, 2012

"Karla... You're late again," the teacher scolded me as I hastily barged into class. Being late for class sucks but when teachers actually scold you in front of the class for being late is worse.

I mean, why can't they just let me live. I already feel obligated to go to school, do I really have to be that punctual as well? It's honestly not my fault school starts at 8 in the morning. I'm literally late by 5 minutes, 6 tops.

"Sorry Miss, I slept in," I said, ducking my head down, embarrassed as everyone eyed me in a judging manner.

I don't like it. I don't like when people look at me, examining me, making me feel like an ant to their human sized eyes. I feel.. naked.

I feel like they're judging me, maybe not by their mouths but by their gaze.

The way they look at me make me feel weird. As if I'm.. abnormal.

I mean, I know I'm weird. Goofy. Dorky. But I'm not ill. I do know people my age don't dress like me; a bow with a colorful dress.

But I feel like people conform too much that they often lose themself. I feel like myself when I wear these clothes. I feel content and happy. And yet, it also often dampens my mood. Not by the clothes, but by how people perceive it.

Don't get me wrong, I've tried wearing those mundane clothes. The ones on Best Buy or even the expensive ones in front of the store. I've saved money to buy those clothes. But I never like them. They make me pretty, but they doesn't make me.. me.

So no.. I'd prefer wearing these.

"Sit down Karla. You really have to learn how to be punctual one day. Once you get a job, you'll understand."

I walked over to my seat in the furthest corner of the room and sat. I prefer sitting here anyway. This way, I can look at them and not the other way around. And if they do look at me - which is rare - I can know.

The class was tedious, as per usual. Just like the class after that. And the rest of the day.

I really don't see myself working in an office, following whatever my boss says. It's too boring. Too ordinary.

"So that was extreme," Marielle says, waking me from my day dream.

"What is?" I ask, gripping on the straps of my backpack.

"Mrs Nelson. You were late, remember?"

"Oh yeah.. Yeah."

"Are you okay? You seem off," her sister, Sandra, asked.

"I don't know.. Well, you know about The X-Factor right?" Both of them nodded, intrigued at where I'm going at, "Well, there's an audition some time on July, I was hoping to go-"

"But why? You could hardly talk in front of a class without stuttering, what makes you think you could sing in front of National Television?" Sandra interrupted, her eyebrow raised condescendingly.

"I know but-"

"It's not worth it Camila. You'll more than likely to embarrass yourself. You can't even sing in front of us. Would you be able to sing in front of Simon Cowell? One of the of the most ruthless judge ever."