I don’t Need Your Pity, I Don’t Want Your Salvation II
A man across the road hears the ladies talking about how a stupid driver has run off with my things, he sees the shocking look on my face and makes his way towards me.
“Do you have your bag?”
“Do you have your phone and everything else?”
“Yes, the only thing I left in the car were the fruits I just bought.”
I tell the lady to make me a new batch of fruits. I know I will not even have enough money to get home after I pay her but I do not care. I want their gaze off me and will do whatever I can to not be their victim.
A few minutes ago I was the vibrant young girl with money to splurge on fruits, at this moment I have been reduced to a victim and I cannot tell them to stop pitying me. I cannot tell them that this incident does not define me, I cannot tell them that I don’t need their saving. All I can do is passively stare into space as I patiently wait for my fruits. I want to avoid their pitiful eyes but I can’t. They are my sympathizers and I am obligated to embrace their sympathy.