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Oblivious

Long deep breaths.
One. Two. Three. Four.
The seconds follow along.
Four. Three. Two. One.
Timeouts over.
Beads trickle down,
beads of determination,
determination sweat.
Beads trickles down foreheads,
five foreheads, to be exact.
While six sit on the side
waiting.
Five seconds on the clock, down by one.
Five. She has the ball.
Four. She dribbles down to the
Three. 3-point line.
Two. She shoots
One. Swish.
Zero. The crowd goes
deafening.
Nothing, nothing
can bring her down.

Only seconds later
a car door slams.
Her father impatiently starts the car,
“Do you know how late it is?”
He asks, in a harsh tone.
He goes on and on in his rant.
All she can do is wait,
while her head is screaming.
He goes on and on in his rant.
All she can do is sit,
while her lip is trembling.
He goes on and on in his rant.
All she can do is think,
by the way Dad,
we won.

In another home,
in another place,
in a whole different world.
A girl, who should be proud
for the victory
but depressed,
sad,
gloomy, gloomy, gloomy.
All she did was
make turnovers,
make air balls,
make no mark on the game.
She was the girl who went in for
thirty seconds at
third quarter.

Both girls walk into school the next day,
oblivious
of each other.

The Princess,
we shall call her,
is quickly swept up by compliments.
Raved by everyone,
“Nice moves out there!”
“Amazing shot!”
“You must be on top of the world.”
but she wasn’t.
He goes on and on in his rant.
She’s nothing without him,
but everyone else doesn’t need to know.
So she smiles,
not many know this but The Princess is an
actress, too.
She can dazzle a crowd,
while her heart is ripping.
The Princess has been acting for
years,
and so now she doesn’t know the difference between
true happiness
and
pretending.

The Peasant,
we will now call her,
is reassured by friends.
Small, nice words,
“Nice defense!”
“You played your best!”
“You did fine.”
but that’s the problem.
She didn’t want to be fine,
she wanted to be great,
the best.
But her friends can go on
not knowing that.
So she laughs,
not many know this but The Peasant is a
master pretender.
Her friends think she’s fine,
while everything’s wrong.
The Peasant has been acting for
years,
and so now she doesn’t know the difference between
true happiness
and
pretending.

The whole world is
oblivious
of them.





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