The day is over. Finally, finally over. I leave before anyone else, while they're all still talking. I push my way into the shower room, take the second stall. Its just a habit, to pick that one. I feel safer there for a moment, finally alone. But at the same time, haven't I been lonely? The spray of the shower hits my feet as I undress, the sound quiets my mind- if only for a moment. I stand beneath the downpour of pressurized water, it's hot and feels amazing on work-sore muscles. But my peace can't last long, even there. The others begin to enter, talking. They're still going on and on about the drama. They say hello to me just once and keep talking. I hear it all, i'll remember. But I am always playing innocent and dumb. Because they surely talk about me too, all of my flaws. All of my complaints. All she did at dinner was talk about things that put a bitter taste in my mouth. But I sat there, smiled and nodded, forced empathy. Maybe I did feel some? But also, I felt angry. Angry that nobody ever noticed me when I was like that, but they're all over her. The loneliness creeps up through my mind again, forcing itself front and center. Maybe I can get lost in the woods for a while at camp. Maybe I can seek refuge in nature, away from it all. But the loneliness will find me there too. There's a dull ache here, feeling like i'm just...different. That i'm not important, not significant enough, not anyone's first choice or first thought. I don't want to get attached, so I push people away. It never goes well when I get attached. She hated that. It's still hated. If only I could be better. I sigh. Someone is knocking on the door. I tell them i'm nearly done and quickly dry and get dressed. I stand in the hallway for a moment, my feet on the cool tile. I hear the others in the distance, laughing, playing. But they always forget about me when we play. "She excludes herself" they say. But I don't, I try to join their games, but i can't connect. My mother said I'd feel better around the other kids. She said I'd be happier, but I'm getting worse. Falling deeper and deeper into this masked sorrow. How long has it been since it got bad? A week? Two? I doubt anyone has even noticed. How long would it take them to notice if I disappeared entirely? What would it be that makes them notice? They needed or wanted something? I'm somewhere dangerously in-between. Not quite weird, not quite normal, not quite. I'm tired of the not quite. The not. I am not. Even as I lay in my bed, the lights off, the breathing of the people around me, i feel alone. I know that I will continue to feel alone for some time. I cannot cry for help. Nobody will answer. I am alone, and all I can think as I cry myself to sleep each night, is...Surely, Eywa will provide. I have a path, even if it is concealed. I comfort myself. I will always be here for myself, I am my friend, I am my caregiver, my mother, my father, my sibling, my mentor. I am. I am not. When will it be noticed?
