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A friend of the Ordinary

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They didn’t have to like her, as long as they never forgot her. I had read studies about that, how people can deal with being disliked, but they couldn’t deal with being ignored. And, for what seems like forever, Kyoko has been ignored. The only thing they noticed about her was her broken arm. Then they just walked past, I’m not even sure if they knew her name.
Kyoko had broken her arm a month ago today, and it was her only distinguishing factor. Otherwise, Kyoko was completely generic. Kyoko had medium length red hair, but the red was so dark it looked brown, you could only tell it was red when the sun hit it just right. Was only   1 ½ inches above the average height for her age, and wore normal clothes- whatever was trending that season.
Kyoko tried to fit in so that people would like her, but Kyoko almost fit in too well. Everything Kyoko did, said, and wore were so normal that it might as well have been scripted. So the cast on her arm jumped out a little bit from her usual, bland attire.
I wanted to be her friend, I just didn’t know how. She was so normal, that I didn’t know how to approach her if that makes sense. It was like talking to her would stand out so much from her normal routine that she’d be scared. I didn’t want to scare her, but I needed to talk to her, or else she might just disappear completely. That, and I was in the market for a friend.
I had science and English with her, and luckily they were right next to each other, so I’d probably be able to get a conversation in- if I tried. I just didn’t know what to talk to her about. The weather? No, to ordinary. What about her name, it’s really cool, and I wonder what the country of origin is. But that’s too… personal. I don’t know, maybe it will just come to me.
The bell rings, and I go to science. But she doesn’t sit next to me in science, and this hour is just a silent study hall, we have a test tomorrow, and she wants us prepared. I spend the whole hour reviewing flashcards.
When the bell rings for English, I try and catch up to her in the hall, but she disappears into the crowd, so well it’s like she has a technique.
She sits next to me in English, but she’s already buried in a book. Trying to talk to her would be rude now.
Every attempt I make seems futile, It’s rather as though she likes being ignored, so I give up. The next day at school the same thing happens.
Then she doesn’t show up. t was only one day, but still. As far as I can tell, she has perfect attendance, and she didn’t look sick yesterday, did she? I scour my memory and decide that she looked most definitely fine yesterday.
No one cares about Kyoko, so they weren’t talking about it. I asked my English teacher, and they told me that she had Cancer and It had taken a turn for the worse.
I asked if she knew what hospital she was in, but she didn’t know.
When I got home I found the directory and called her mom, she was so glad that one r Kyoko’s friends was calling. She told me the hospital number and the room number, and not to be there at 6 because she had chemotherapy.
I showed up at 5 the next day, and she looked awful. However, her face lit up when she saw that someone from her school cared enough to visit her. She asked me if I could visit again, and I told her I would visit as often as possible and bring her homework.
Of course, I said yes. I wasn’t heartless. I just didn’t like seeing anyone in a hospital, especially if they had cancer and I knew that someone.
I just wouldn’t let my fear get the best of me.
Every single day that I had a second to spare, I visited Kyoko or called her on the phone. And every single day, she got more vibrant, more alive, Even though she still has cancer.
I guess she just needed a friend, and finally, she had one. I was honored to be that friend.






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