Portrait of Scat: Afternoon

IMG_20160227_193925

22nd March, 2010

Get out. Get out ! No. NO. Now. Don’t be seen. Don’t let them see you. ESCAPE. TO FREEDOM. now. NOW. NOWWWW!! Enough is enough. Don’t let them control you. Don’t let them find you.RUN. RUN. don’t be seen..

8 months earlier

It was kind of hard to talk to Scat and her crowd. I ended up on this cyclic sort of track, like a broken scratchy CD-ROM, or some fancy drive on strike.IMG_20160227_194311

Or I would suddenly say, a few minutes late, overly loud-in the way quiet people sometimes speak when they are trying really hard not to be quiet-something like “Oh that is for coocoo people to go loony with when the moon turns blue.” And everyone mostly would blink a little and continue with their conversations. If I persisted, they’d give me weird blank stares.Or these really weird personal comments. “Oh H***** you’re not a good girl anymore…”

I changed myself. Just a little. There was this one evening that really stood out. I remember yellow pastel stripes across a towering empty place..

7 months earlier

IMG_20160227_194337

It really was amazing.

But I still felt like a cyclic broken fish game whenever I hung out with these new people, with Scat. There was this barrier that was never broken, no matter how I tried. So I changed myself more, and immersed myself deeper and deeper into the life of Scat.

I became her voluntary slave. Coffee, Scat? No problem. Accompany Scat to math class?  I’d even sit through it and joke around with Scat. Make slimy jokes on fbk for her. Its what everyone seemed to be into. I’d be her eternal friend. Anything Scat. Scat didn’t like my silly way of pointing out the obvious? I’d change. I’d be wittier too, cuz she thought me not witty. I’d talk. I’d be loud. I’d quit being an introvert. I’d stop being weird. Anything to erase my A-level self. Anything for Scat I forced my life to revolve around Scat.

Maybe I could even be liked. Or COOL.

Changing. When someone did or said something awesome, I’d imbibe it and do it twice as better with a bit of a twist to it. I’d take the wings off of every cool/mean person, cuz I was cooler, but NICE. Too nice. Deluded, I actually thought that..changing, changing CHANGING, CHANGING!!!!! until that was all I was. A mass of changing, perpetually imbibing, copying, slurping up, sucking up everything and anything that was even remotely cool..

It led to nasties in both of us, Scat and I….

4 months earlierIMG_20160227_194840

2 and a half months earlier

I BECAME A MONSTER.

IMG_20160227_194125

2 weeks earlier

One day…IMG_20160227_194531

And she was right! I didn’t know that back then.

22nd March, 2010

GET OUT. NOW. “Class dismissed.”  Out of my seat I popped, and I ran down the large wooden stairs in the middle. Kids on either side of it were slowly moving out of the auditorium seats, and a mumbling chatter filled the room. I didn’t stop. Their figures blurred. Some of the blurry stuff had gaping holes near the tops. Whatever. I had to GET OUT. UNSEEN. I slipped out the wooden doors, and went off into a winding little pathway. It was rather enchanted and tiled and the perfect escape. They wouldn’t follow me. They wouldn’t know. ESCAPE. THEY DON’T LISTEN TO WHO YOU ARE, ALL THEY CARE ABOUT IS HOW LOUD,FUN, FUNNY, WITTY AND COOL YOU ARE. NO MORE BEING A SLAVE. FREEDOM.THEY DON’T SEE THAT YOU ARE ACTUALLY A GOOFY, CLUMSY AND SOMETIMES SMELLY OAF. OUT! THEY CAN’T SEE CUZ YOU NEVER LET THEM SEE. ARGH NO NO DON’T THINK ABOUT THAT. SHUT UP. I DON’T-I JUST WANT TO BE FREEEE… I just had to get out, out and away.IMG_20160227_194602

And I did. Scat, then, was never someone who explored much anyway.

I did every single class after that. Naturally Scat noticed.”We always do everything together, but now she disappears after class. Whats wrong?”…

~END OF PART 4~

*All names and some facts are fiction.

IMG_20160227_194036

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

About theshadowsofthenight

An amateur writer and amateur artist :)
This entry was posted in Portraits of...., Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s