A world so cruel, one that defies every law and sustains a lie called love for eternity. That lie… that is the world I live in: a world of liars.
The world is twisted… illusory, or so I think.
I've never had a goal in mind; rather, I've always thought that everything is so unnecessary.
Today, I simply woke up like every other day, with nothing to do, just to go to school. Today, everything felt so strange. Everything was fine, I didn't want to know it, but I remembered.
Today is… Valentine's Day. Ah… I ended up yawning so unnecessarily. Valentine's Day. A day when people lie more often than usual, a day when they lie to each other's faces to satisfy the human need for love, to please one another with sweet words and believe they have faith that it's a special day; to think that, at least, someone on Earth loves them. Suddenly…
I started speaking so fast that when I realized it, it was too late.
I was running late. For school.
I had to hurry. I threw on the first thing I found, grabbed the bread waiting for me on the table, and took a bite. I must have been so excited yesterday to go to school that I even left breakfast ready. Anyway, there was no time. I ran to the station before the train left me behind.
That's when I met a girl on the train. Let me make it clear: I didn't want to know anything about her. But she started bothering me so stupidly. HOW ANNOYING!
—Hi? What's your name?
—Do you go to my school too?
She surprised me so unexpectedly. She spoke to me. Someone in this world of liars. What surprised me most was how she looked at me.
Soon I realized: it all made perfect sense. Who would talk to me, on the first day of school, a complete stranger? Of course, she wasn't really talking to me…
I quickly moved aside, didn't look back, just pretended my phone was ringing. That's it.
How I hate people—they're so unnecessary. Everything is so unnecessary: the world, the sky. We just pretend to be someone; we're never ourselves. We only want to be what others want.
Ah… I sighed. How unnecessary it is to go to school. How I wish I could go back home and watch my favorite show. My show that I call anime. Well, what do you expect? It's not like I'm an otaku or anything, I just happen to like anime casually, that's all.
I reacted, and the train had already arrived at my school. I ran quickly up the station stairs.
I arrived running. After seeing the school, I climbed its stairs, reached my classroom, opened the door dramatically, all sweaty. I remember that when I entered, everyone stared at me.
—Who is he? (whispering)
—Why is he so late? (whispering)
—How irresponsible.
Everyone looking at me seriously, with disgust, as if they were seeing walking vomit.
The teacher slowly got up before starting to scold me. Every second stretched as if the clock wanted to humiliate me. I lowered my head, unwilling to look at him. Everything was so unnecessary.
—What are these late hours? (the teacher spoke calmly)
Everyone laughed because the teacher scolded me. But it wasn't enough for him: he looked at me seriously and blinked slowly. I thought he would give me something serious, and I was almost scared.
—As punishment, you'll clean the classroom in the afternoon.
I responded as I always would, with a yawn, thinking how unnecessary it all was.
Everyone in the class continued whispering behind my back.
—Not only is he late on the first day, he complains. Who does he think he is?
—What a lazy one. How can such a person exist?
Aha, aha—I shouted furiously—and sat in the empty seat in the classroom. The teacher began the lesson…
I didn't particularly like anyone, not even the teacher.
But don't think it was because he sent me to clean; far from it. I actually thanked him. Thanks to him, I could be alone more than ever.
I was grateful.
Time passed in the classroom, and I was reading. It seemed like everyone was staring at me. I don't know if it was because they found me funny, or if they were talking badly about me. Whatever. That's how the line of the world rolls and how liars survive, especially today, Valentine's Day. The day I call: the day liars celebrate their lies. They talk about something as misogynistic as love, a word not in my dictionary—love is so unnecessary. I've always said it, and I'll always say it.
It seems people think life only matters for what they believe is fun. I've never seen anyone my age thinking about the future and not some ridiculous thing like love.
I kept talking to myself while everyone looked at me like a weirdo. I wasn't new, but how people disgust me.
I was relieved when the bell rang and the teacher stopped speaking about him, starting the break period. I felt so expressive.
I ran out of the classroom, I think my classmates expected a lot from me.
What do they expect from someone like me?
After leaving that unpleasant classroom, I searched for a new place without people to eat.
I was too tired. I had slept little yesterday because a chapter of my new series had come out.
While walking through the school hallways, I saw people hugging and giving chocolates. It's so stupid. I felt a pain I hadn't felt in a long time. It seems like there's nothing good in my life.
I can't understand it, or I simply don't want to; I feel like I'm repressing myself over my past failed loves. I remember previous days at school, when a girl rejected me in summer. I had long thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world.
But she didn't think the same of me.
She rejected me countless times.
I don't understand why women aren't more direct like us men. What did it cost her to say no? I don't understand. They want to keep their toy, I guess. She would always say things like: "I don't know," "you tell me," "maybe," but who would understand such stupid games? I just don't get it. The best is to be like this, as I am.
Time passed, and I found a good place where no one comes, an empty classroom, where entry was forbidden. There I ate with a peace I had never felt before—or so I think.
I think lately I've been reflecting a lot on my life. When the bell rang to go back to class, I had to return, quickly storing the bag with my bread to go back to that classroom. How I wish I could return to my room and watch my series.
I sat in my seat, and just as I sat quickly, I also had to get up quickly. Apparently, some classmates had played a prank, placing sharpened pencil tips on my seat.
Everyone started laughing. So uncomfortable. I also laughed, louder than them. I wanted to show I liked the joke too, even if I didn't, thinking maybe they'd stop bothering me.
But it didn't work. They began giving me dirty looks when I started laughing. Everyone went silent.
Even though they were also laughing. I didn't understand. I didn't care. I just wanted to know what I was having for dinner.
After the bell rang again, the teacher picked up his papers, his tired face showing he hadn't slept in days. He stood from his desk, and while I watched everyone leave for home, he said:
—You, the last one left, don't forget your punishment. You must clean the classroom for being late, understood? —(rudely)
I looked at him happily and said yes, with an almost expressionless face, though I was happy. How can someone be happy and show such an expressionless face? I wondered. But it seems I was an expert, and I laughed to myself while the teacher looked at me with disgust. He replied:
—Just clean the classroom, okay? —he said almost scared—I could tell from his face.
As always, I didn't care. After he left, I grabbed some brooms and cleaners to clean while yawning, super bored…
While cleaning, I noticed a backpack on a seat, obviously unknown. The backpack was pink, and I wondered: could it belong to a boy? I laughed imagining a classmate using it. What a dark joke… I don't think even a ghost would laugh. That's my humor.
While laughing, I was almost done cleaning, and suddenly a classmate entered. Pink hair, brown eyes, side-parted hairstyle… in my opinion, not very intelligent.
She lifted her delicate hair and slowly looked at me while clearly running to get her backpack. Suddenly, I saw her on the floor.
Of course: she had tripped on her right foot. Who trips on their right foot? Scientifically, it was impossible to trip where she fell.
She had fallen in the only spot in the classroom where you couldn't trip even if you tried.
She was exactly 98 inches from the main door, 59 inches from the right wall. The ceiling 108 inches, as always, and that spot had a free radius of 36 inches without backpacks, chairs, desks, or idiots pushing. Nothing. Pure emptiness. The place was so safe you could run across diagonally from the front-right corner to the center of the room, at a 43-degree angle, at 90 inches per second, which is roughly how anyone runs to get a forgotten backpack. Even for an Olympic sprinter, you'd have 0.8 seconds to correct any mistake, which according to my calculations lasts about 0.24 seconds per foot. She fell right in the middle of nowhere. Not a crack, shadow, or gum stuck anywhere. Perfect visibility, level floor, no one around. A place made to not trip. But she… managed it. I suppose that's a talent too.
I began laughing intensely. She got up as if nothing happened, which made me laugh even more. She looked at me coldly; I suppose she hated me for laughing. I tried to help her up, thinking it would compensate for laughing, but apparently, she tripped again. Who trips twice in the same spot?
She tried to hold onto me to avoid falling, but failed, and we both fell. At that moment, I couldn't think of anything else; my mind was blank, who wouldn't be blank? When exactly it's blank, without any print.
It seemed I had fallen under her, seeing where the light doesn't reach.
She got up quickly, and like any empowered woman, she slapped me.
I couldn't do anything. Society nowadays defends women more than us men. That's society: it fell into extreme socialism towards feminism, so the best was to do nothing, as always. I wouldn't gain anything by getting angry, so I just breathed and asked:
—Do you feel better now? Did that help with what you did?
I think I made her angrier. I simply don't understand women, always looking for trouble because they're not satisfied with their gender. It's incredible how many angry women exist, thinking they're doing things right.
She just took her backpack and left. So unnecessary… What a nuisance.
Finally, I finished cleaning, and someone arrived—I swear I don't know him. He greeted me, hugged me, and called me best friend. Really? How I hate everyone. The man has never been able to live alone, so they always give all rights to women; they think that by doing so, they won't be abandoned.
Everyone's a liar.
He invited me to eat together. I couldn't refuse, but don't think it's because I like people or anything, nooo, not at all. I hate liars; I was just hungrier than I'd been in a long time.
We went to a café, and he asked what I had been doing, how things were at home, or something. I didn't listen, just thought about the food. He said I could order whatever I wanted.
I nearly ate the entire menu. I hadn't eaten something so delicious in a long time… so casually delicious. Then I composed myself, sat seriously, and asked who he was.
He laughed so unnecessarily, in a way that wasn't funny, and said, "What a joker you are, best friend." I couldn't hold it anymore: I smiled awkwardly and left the place. Of course, I said goodbye.
He told me if I needed anything, to talk to him.
And so I took the train home, reflecting on the panties I had seen… I mean, on what I had for dinner. That's when I saw her again: gray hair, soft eyes, serious look, particularly sexy… though I didn't care.
Yes: it was the same one I thought greeted me before. I saw her walking furiously toward me, so strange… then she hit me. Tell me: is today the day of hitting or something? I don't think I was informed. I've received more hits than a professional boxer. Please, what's happening here?
While looking at me angrily, with a serious face, she said:
—Tell me something? Why did you ignore me this morning, dummy?
I looked at her, confused, and asked:
—So you were talking to me, miss?
She answered shamelessly:
—Who else do you think? You're the only one in front of me.
I felt like my face almost smiled, though it wasn't noticeable. My face slightly wrinkled, I think. Though I don't think it was because I'm actually crazy and lack self-love… while a shameless girl shows a little compassion, it makes my body release endorphins, making me think I'm happy.
THAT WOULD BE VERY WRONG!
After stopping thinking about myself, she leaned forward smoothly, forming an almost perfect ninety-degree angle with her hips. Her silhouette curved so majestically in the air, accentuated by the subtle movement of her hips, drawing an almost perfect S.
Then she turned her face, and her eyes met mine. What's wrong with her? That's all I asked myself. Doesn't she know that if she does that, she could steal anyone's heart? The most shameless part was that she then smiled… a smile that could pacify anyone.
And with that smile… she placed her hands behind her, as if she didn't know it would accentuate her posture even more. As if she didn't know she was doing something unusual. As if she didn't know that gesture was perfectly unnecessary and romantic. I felt like an anime protagonist, from those romantic animes I watch that don't resemble my life at all.
I couldn't help it… I smiled and told her my name, almost barely, legs trembling. Simply strange… or normal. Who wouldn't tremble? It had never happened to me before.
And that annoyed me more. I don't know why.
Who does she think she is? Who does she think she's looking at like that? What does she think? That she can appear out of nowhere, bend with surgical precision, smile at me like a damn main character in her story, and then…?
And then what?
Exactly that. She got up as if nothing happened, as if she hadn't tensed every muscle in my neck with that scene. She fixed her hair, which fell like a commercial for an expensive shampoo, and walked away… again, in that annoying way. So graceful. So unnecessary.
Damn Valentine's Day.