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Someone Can Always Hear

“I hate them,” was the first thought I had as these two girls laughed at me. Ellen and I had just come out of the ice cream store on Main Street when I announced to my friend Molly how scary drug lords are. Then these two girls that were sitting with Molly just started laughing at me literally right behind my back. Both of the girls tried to hide their giggles by cupping their hands over their mouth and trying to hold their breath. I continued to talk to Molly and Ellen trying to block out their harsh chuckles. It was one of those summer nights were the air was warm and there was a slight breeze.

Those were the summer nights I longed for. There was always happiness about them. I didn’t want anyone to ruin my perfect summer night so I tried to soak in the perfection of the night. I turned around to look at the moon. One girl had started to laugh into her empty Italian ice cup as if she couldn’t contain her giggling. After that every time I turned around to look at the moon they stopped laughing completely and tightly closed their lips sitting up straight and not moving. I pretended that I couldn’t hear them, or see them although I could. Girls are b****es.

That is exactly what I said to my brother, William the 10th, the next night when we were sitting in the nook or the “glass room” in my house. The back wall of the room has two large glass sliding doors that lead out to my backyard. There are flower pots on either side of the doors with overgrown flowers that scrape our light green walls and almost reach the ceiling and badly need to be re planted. The wall to my right has four windows and hanging on the last window there are ten tiny mirrors connected to each other by string and each mirror turns and twist at its own rate. When it is sunny outside the mirrors reflect the sun in different directions often blinding me as I try to eat breakfast or lunch. The wall behind me also had four windows. Each window has four old blinds that shield my family from the dog walkers, bikers, and too friendly neighbors who may look in. On the left side is an opening that leads to my kitchen. In the middle of the room is our “breakfast table” but it also is the lunch, snack, and dinner table. My family usually doesn’t use the dining room.

I squinted my eyes and looked outside trying to see anything through the windows but I couldn’t it was a dark abyss outside. Unlike the night before the weather was chilly. I looked at my brother and said, “Girls are b****es, so why do you hang out with them?” My brother just looked at me. I continued, “Girls are so mean there isn’t one girl that doesn’t randomly be b****y and be hurtful to all of her friends. You just can’t trust girls.”

“They are not as shallow as guys. The girls I hang out with,” William the 10th paused, looked down at me and finished what he was saying, “are nice and although they might be annoying sometimes, they are not ever mean.” William the 10th walked away slowly, which made me feel horrible. He again was right and I was wrong just like it always was. I just sat at the kitchen table, first I was angry. Then my parents finished cleaning the dishes and kissed me on the cheek goodnight. Then I was confused why my parents hadn’t called me out on swearing. I sat their long after 1 am.

After thinking for 6 hours I finally came down to this conclusion, the reason I flipped out at my brother wasn’t just because I was being a hormonal girl it was because the hurt I felt from the previous night. I also realized that I wasn’t angry at those girls for laughing at me. I was angry at myself because I had done the same thing to other girls many, many times. I now know how it feels to be laughed at and I will never do that to someone else because they can always hear.

Love always
VikkiLynn
Learn Now or Die Ignorant





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