The first time I really noticed Katie was about a week after the new school year started - my final year of high school.
She sat in the front row of the class and was always quiet, and always just looking ahead. There wasn't really much chance for me to even see her face. I wasn't particularly interested anyway.
But on that day, during the first class of the day, everyone was quietly laughing in the class, pointing at the silent girl who might as well had been a mute for all I knew.
A piece of paper was stuck on her back with tape The note read, "I'm a creep."
A benign joke. Nothing new. This happened all the time.
Then another boy, Craig, a fat fuck with an outgoing personality and a good sense of humor, came up with a genius idea of swapping the note. As the first class ended, he approached the diminutive girl, placed one hand on her desk, leaned and started to talk to her.
That grabbed people's attention because no one really talked to her.
The girl seemed anxious, but something Craig said must have disarmed her. She started to engage in conversation, and judging by her showing something from the text book, it seemed that the fat boy asked her some study related questions.
It was when the joker pulled it off, in the middle of getting help from the kind girl, he skillfully switched the note on her back. Now it read, "I'm a weirdo."
People burst out laughing, some clapping and cheering at the sheer brilliance of the big man who had a big brain to match.
When the second class started, Rob - another one of those naughty kids in my class - switched the note on her back once again. It now read, 'What the hell am I doing here?'
That's when Mr. Latkowski, the math teacher, walked in. He was rather strict and had pretty wild mood swings, so we never knew what to expect from him. So the whole class did their best not to laugh. Nobody did anything to Katie during that class.
Once the class was over though, Mel went up to the girl and completed the joke. The note was switched one last time with the final line of the chorus, "I don't belong here."
With nothing more to say and everyone having had enough of their fill for the day, the note was left on her back throughout the rest of the day without Katie ever noticing.
I have to admit that I did laugh back then too and found it pretty funny.
So I wasn't quite sure why I flinched as I saw Vicky spit a chewing gum on the hopeless girl's hair a few days later.
The Three Whores from the East burst out laughing as Katie clumsily tried to get the gum off, but she totally botched the job, and the gum just got lodged even deeper in her tangled hair
Eventually she gave up, seeming accepting her fate.
That left an impression on me for the reasons I could not fully understand.
It was before I ever got hit by a truck or Mary transferred to our school.
So perhaps back then I had the capacity to feel sympathetic to others' suffering.
I probably did. I was human after all.
But at the same time, I was curious.
I was curious how she could not only endure, but accept the bad hands dealt to her day after day. Instead of folding, she turned up to school every day, betting her dignity on the line, and slowly losing part of herself each day.
House always wins, and she simply didn't belong here.
As I was deep in thought, recounting those memories on my office chair, after the recent vision of seeing her decapitated twice, Jude walked through the door, approached my desk, stopped, and gave an awkward greeting.
It was kind of hard to bow or salute when you had to carry your head around.
"What is it?"
"Sir, the Lee twins are fighting again."
What a headache.
But then again, I had beheaded Jude myself, so perhaps I shouldn't be the one to complain.
"What's their problem this time?"
"Apparently Ryan wouldn't accept being 'It' after Joey caught him. They were playing tag."
The twins always fought. I reprimanded them many times. No in-fighting in this place.
I sighed, got up, and told my loyal disciple.
"Jude, bring me there."
"I could bring them here too, sir."
"It's OK. I'd like to walk around a bit, to refresh my head."
Jude chuckled.
I usually held back from jokes, but once I brought him here, I was happy to discover that he had a good sense of humor.
As we walked out of the office side by side, I asked him.
"Do you ever wish that your head was in the right place?"
Jude paused for a moment, and spoke.
"Sir, have you ever heard of Edmund Kemper?"
I thought about it for a second. I drew blank.
"No."
"He was a serial killer with some mother issues. Back in 1973, he killed a young woman called Cindy. He decapitated her - much like you, good sir - and buried her head in the garden of his home."
I stopped and turned to look at Jude.
"And why did he do that?"
"He told the authority it was because his mother always wanted people to look up to her."
That brought a smile to my face.
"So, sir, I'm fine with the way I am now. It's an honor to be always looking up to you."
"You are a good man," I said, patting his shoulder. "Let's go sort out the Lee brothers."
"Yes, sir."
I was glad that destiny brought Jude Oscar to me that day.
Things could have been worse.