A bubble of chatter floated round the group that was nothing
but a distant hum at the back of a young girl’s mind as she sat silently
amongst them, withdrawn to the deep recesses of her mind as she observed each
one.
One threw a hurtful comment her way and she
laughed it off with the rest of them. She was sure he meant it as a joke, but...was it really? Again, the same question she’d been
spending the last few minutes pondering raised itself. She cared for all of
them but did they care for her the same
way? Within this question lay a bunch of other questions like ‘was this
worth it?’, ‘would they do the same for her?’, and ‘what is true anymore?’. She
chewed down on her lower lip to conceal its trembling and she wondered why she
even doubted. Didn’t she decide to be faithful and trust in them? So why was it
so difficult to not overthink things? One of her so-called ‘friends’ turned to
her with a smile and a comment and she smiled back and sent a retort his way.
Physically, she was present but all her actions were done in
an absentminded manner. All she wanted was not to doubt any of them, but is
that not what she was doing now? Philosophies, facts…every aspect that made up
life – it was as the wind. Even if you lived forever, there were different
angles, perspectives and different types of winds that you could never
completely catch, understand, or see. So why was she bothering herself trying
to make sense of it all? Simple, she did not want to live in ignorance – even
when she knew being out of ignorance of everything was impossible.
A memory surfaced in her mind. When she was small, she
visited a very sick relative with her grandfather. He was her grandfather’s
brother. He was bed-ridden and very weak. They exchanged greetings and warm
welcomes. Actually, it was more like she and her grandfather gave greetings. The
man could hardly speak; only make grunts and sounds. Before they left, they
gathered around his bed and prayed for him. He cried. At the time, she could
not understand why. Her grandfather said it was because the man knew he was
sick. It was tears of regret, pain, difficulty, and confusion.
People who are different from other people – they know they
are different. These differences confuse them, rendering them psychologically
tortured. Is it right to be different? Principles and what they believe to be truth clash. Should the
person be in a mental hospital? Or was she just another of those people like
the heroes of history who believed in something different than everybody else
and stood for what she believes? So many different perspectives to each scene –
how was she to know which was the exact truth anymore?
