• The following links are links to prior chapters of this selection:

    Part 1 Prologue

    Part 1 Ch. 1

    Part 1 Ch. 2

    Part 1 Ch. 3

    Part 1 Ch. 4










    I still don't get her.

    I hated her, I still did, and I'm sure she knew that, but she continues to persist on being nice to me. I will never understand her.

    And, as I sat in my corner at lunch on Tuesday, isolated from the rest of the world, neglecting to associate with anyone as I slowly bit into my sandwhich, I saw from the corner of my eye, Mary, chattering with her friends, and I pondered that very question. Why? Why did she smile at me? Why did she only make me do the heart for the project? Why was she so kind to me? Why had she never gotten angry at me for being a bully to her?

    And suddenly, she moved, and before I knew it, she was plopped down next to me, asking with a warm smile and her hands folded at her waist,

    "How was your day?" And I replied, setting my sandwhich down and looking at her up and down,

    "What are you doing here?" She shrugged, and still with that--that little angel smile, she said,

    "I thought we might need to discuss the project. Do you have your half of the rough draft done?" I turned away from her, and said as uncaring as I could,

    "Most of it." She tilted her head to the right, with an inquisitive look on her face as she said,

    "Is that so? Because," she suddenly shuffled through her binders and notebooks, taking out a couple of lined pieces of paper, "I just finished it. It's six pages...written, of course." I plucked the papers from her grasp, skimming over the pages, and reading the first couple paragraphs. Here it is:

    One of the main and vital functions of the human body is the heart. It's a muscle heart, who's primary job is to pump oxygenated blood and deoxygenated blood to the lungs.

    The human heart consists of an atrium and ventricle used for each circulation of the blood. Each of these, the atrium and the ventricle, have both a left and a right chamber. The right atrium, which is located at the top right side of the heart, assumes blood from the upper part of the body at the Superior Vena Cava, as well as through the lower Inferior Vena Cava.

    The left atrium recieves freshly oxygenated blood. Inbetween both the right and left atrium lies the fetus. It's job is to...     Ok, better stop. You guys probably skip all that stuff anyway. I suppose it was arguably better than mine, but nevertheless, I didn't hesitate to ask her,

    "Why?" She looked baffled as I looked up to her from her paper. My hands were firmly clamped at the sides of the paper as she said,

    "I thought...well, I thought it would be nice." Then she smiled at me, and continued, "Well, I had extra time, and I thought you might..." Gah! I hated that. People always assume things, but they never ask. I grinded my teeth together, and growled at her,

    "You thought, huh? Like the rest of the world does...like everybody else!" Mary looked really hurt, like I had scarred her, and with her pitiful face, she said,

    "But...I mean, Tom, why wouldn't you want--" I bit my tongue from shouting at her, but I deffinitely said it loud and clear when I proclaimed,

    "You wanna know why? All my life, I've been sympathized. You know what? Maybe I don't want you people in my life. If you guys love me so much, then go away and leave my life!" I could see tears swell inside her eyes, just ready to burst out. But pity wasn't something I was about to feel. It was something I loathed, and I would always loathe it.

    "Tom, I don't understand--" I grabbed the handful of six papers, and waved them in the air.

    "Maybe this will help you." And I drew the wad of papers into both my hands, and started tearing it. Little pieces of paper littered the lunch table as Mary watched in horror as I continued my monstrosity. I took a handful of those little pieces of papers, and declared,

    "This," I pointed the little pile of strips of paper with my free hand that wasn't clenching the lump with all it's might, "is my life. A large piece of work torn to itty bitty bits by other people like you!" A wet trail of tears were traced down on her cheeks. She whimpered,

    "Tom, I didn't do--why did you just--"

    "Stay away from me!"

    "You're over--"

    "Go away!" And with that, she grabbed her stuff and scurried off to a different table, sniffling and sobbing all the while. A peer pro. walked up to me, and said with a look of suspision on her face,

    "Is everything all right?"

    "No," I replied darkly, glaring at Mary as she sat at another table, weeping over her food. "No, nothing is all right."