All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Under The Cherry Tree (How they've met)
I first met him over a crowd of people.
I always liked walking alone; it didn’t bother me, even when I’m walking with the crowd. I’m used to it. So many have I passed through, have I touched random people’s shoulders, have I tried to slip out this claustrophobic city. I’ve been cinched in this city for a long time. Everyday, I would think how to get pass this day. How should things work and end up happy. I’m not used with so many people, with so many strangers. I don’t talk to them, by that, I mean adults. Those, also, who’s not in my age and who are but doesn’t seem too. I never learned how to communicate and be creative. I’m always one of the outcasts in our school. I only have a few friends. But I’m sure they’re something I could really count on. Unlike some, who had a lot, but half of them are traitors and backstabbers.
Christmas is near. It’s the time for cheer, for joy. The time for giving and forgiving. It’s the happiest season of the year. Ho ho ho.
And I’m headed straight to the mall. Usually, people or groups of them visit malls this season to buy gifts for others. For friends or for loved ones.
Well, I buy my own gift. My parents give me some cash, they don’t have time to think, to pick, or buy me some present. They always say, “Here’s the money, go buy your own gift, whatever you want. If it’s not enough, you can ask me for more. Happy Christmas.”
They’re too busy about jobs. Eager to make our life easier. Our life? You mean their life. This is not something I’m surprised at. There’s so many people out there who had the same fate as mine. Yet, not one have I shared the same story with. This feeling of unfathomable hell. Not getting attention from parents, being miserable, lonely and all those crap. I’m all used to it.
Let me fast forward the situation.
I was about to pick it up, the book I’ve been longing to have. It’s the perfect present. And finally, after slipping out through that crowd, I finally get to see the book I wanted. It seemed to be the last one. I felt my face lit up a bit at the sight of that book. I stretched my arm and my fingers. But I found myself stuck in another crowd of bookworm people. I closed my eyes and stretched more, exerting all my effort just to get that book!
“Yes!” I whispered as I finally had it, I’m holding it. I’m halfway there. I just need to pay for it and get that invisible name printed on the book saying I’m the owner! I shovelled my way out. My arms positioned at my back, still holding the book. It seems like I’m pulling something heavy. I pulled hard this time, and when I found my way out, I feel like I’m about to stumble down. This feeling, like you’re in a tug-of-war game. When you’re pulling the rope and the other side quickly released it from their grip, making you fall hard. I closed my eyes before I embarrass myself. I do not want to see the looks of people laughing.
I’m supposed to be hitting my butt hard right now on the floor. I didn’t noticed that a hand trailed down my back, catching me, saving me from embarrassment. I’m still holding on the book, aren’t i?
But the book seemed to move. It was different. I thought I had it?
I opened my eyes to the direction of what I’m holding. It was someone’s hand. So soft and delicate.
Am I really just plain stupid to feel that it wasn’t a book?!
Or, am I hoping that this thing I’m pulling… it’s something I wanted more than the book. Something I seek for. Something… or perhaps, someone who will break the chains off my miserable and lonely world and make this year's merry season blissful?
I’M JUST PLAIN STUPID.