I. on a paper-thin day, a random girl entered my scissors classroom. the first thing i noticed was not the silence when she came in. but how she walked like there was something between her textbook legs, gripping themselves tight like they are afraid of losing another important note. the first thing i asked her was not "whats your name". its "do you forget to bring your book?". she giggled. she asked me if i can share the book with her. truth is, i am ashamed to tell her that i havent even once brought my book to school since the first day i came here. the school rules said that a boy does not need a book to study here. then she nodded like she understood. i nodded back pretending i didnt say anything. we both laughed like the world is no longer watching. one of us laughed a fake one.
II. back then i wondered what has been going inside her. and one day she told me her favourite book. turns out we both loved a book that tells us all the wrongs in the world, not only the ones that felt right. we both loved to stay under the moon. she said she often talks to herself while she sleeps. her favourite line was "even if there will be another moon showing up right above us, there is still nothing left for me." i couldnt understand why its her favourite until the next day when she was sleeping beside me in the classroom, she whispered the magic words like the world finally opened its earplugs: "everything does not matter, if everything was already robbed out of me." and i dont know why, but i closed my eyes in grief as if i understood. her voice carries something the world failed to see.
III. i still wanted to ask her why she walks like a closed door that have been tumbled down and ransacked house. she never talked about her house. when we are together in a room talking, i have learnt that i can say anything except the word "ape". she said it resembles nothing human. the word "ape" still holds her a hostage. i do not know how a word can take everything out of a human just for her to pronounce it. but i know better to be careful not to say it whenever i am around her. she thanked me every time. she told me the world does not want to understand her. we see the fault in all the things we think we know, but dont.
IV. the day she said the word "no" the most was the day someone loved her the most. i told her that i disagree. what about the day when she said the word "yes" the most? the conversation ended this way. i can see her brows furrowed slowly. dear, we cant confuse hurting with loving, yes with no, monsters with human. and then the ocean within her started to crash once more. this time around she finally got her shores washed away. now she tried to walk without the fear of losing something between her thighs. maybe she's finally trying to learn the art of letting go. she asked me, when is this going to end? forever, i replied. forever.
