CHAPTER 2: VULNERABLE
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After I met Violet at the exhibition, she gave her number to me without even being asked. Call it divine providence, luck, destiny, whatever, but after that day, I actually had something to look forward to.
We made it a ritual to talk on the phone everyday after school got over. She would call me, and sometimes, I would call her. Our conversations would be centered around the most unrelated topics. One minute, it was conspiracy theories about the Illuminati. The other, it was a debate between which comic book franchise was the best. To say that the both of us were chaotic would be an understatement, but we had managed to find peace in our own little chaos.
Although we were on the phone almost every second possible, I had not made an effort to meet Violet after the exhibition. Why? The reason was simple. I did not want to show her the real me. Robin Hastings wasn’t some charming, witty and geeky stranger. The real Robin Hastings was a coward. The real Robin, was vulnerable.
After 10th grade, my parents put me in an exclusive private school. Coming from a fairly average economic background, I was at odds with the extremely rich brats of the school. Granted that I used to be by myself in my previous school, but I got used to it, because I knew that the kids who treated me that way were no different than I was. They all come from broken homes and they all had parents who had to work extremely hard to make ends meet. Here? How could I possibly stand a chance against kids who went to Naples for their extended weekends?
I felt left out, simply because I did not have anyone by my side. The students had a condescending attitude, and spoke to me out of pity and sometimes necessity, since they viewed me as a “less privileged” person. The teachers were no different. They thought that I needed special attention, because I did not attend some elite prep school like the other kids. My workload was piled up, I ate lunch all alone and even burnt the midnight oil quite often.
Things were not good back home either, not even the slightest. I saw my father almost once every year, since he worked for some big oil company in the middle east. My mother was rarely home, as she would be busy working long hours as a nurse in the hospital. So, I had to survive on my own. It was tough, not having anyone to support me, but eventually, I got used to it. I had to.
Why didn’t I stand up for myself? Why didn’t I try to make things better? Why did I allow myself to get trampled on everyday? The answer to those questions lies in the fact that I was afraid. Besides, I had gotten used to the emotions that came with being beaten and bruised. The VOID as I like to call it. Its like this heaviness in the middle of your chest. It burns, it stings and it is too heavy to bear, but after some time, you learn to enjoy it, as you wallow in the hatred and the misery.
Violet remained oblivious to all that was happening to me. I did not want her to view me as this loner, who did not fit in with anybody, who could not stand up for himself. I tried my best to hide it from her, until one fateful day in August.
August 8th, 2016. School was super hectic that day. On top of submitting 3 pending assignments, I also had a History test. There was also the usual isolation which I had gotten used to. To make matters worse, I had forgotten to bring my wallet, so I had to stay hungry. There I was, alone in the school cafeteria, twiddling my thumbs. All the other kids stared at me, some with unabashed confidence while others out of the corner of their eye. That was easily the most humiliating experience I had, and with that humiliation, there came the VOID.
What were they thinking? What thoughts filled their head as they looked at me? Was it pity? Disgust? Amusement? All I know is that I was being suffocated, as the noose tightened around my neck.
I returned to an empty home, with tears in my eyes, after what seemed like an eternity. Without even changing out of my uniform, I lay down on my bed. Although hunger plagued my stomach, I did not want to eat. I wanted to drown in the self-loathing and pain, the odd comfort that the VOID brought.
My train of thought was interrupted by a ringing sound. Violet was calling. I was in no condition to talk to her. She would not like that side of me, that was for certain. After ringing for a few minutes, silence followed. Then, a ‘DING’, penetrated the air of quiet. I checked my phone to see that she had resorted to texting me.
“Heyyyyy! everything alrightt???” she had typed.
I replied with, “yes.”
Not being satisfied with my effortless text, Violet pressed on, “You SURE?? Why didnt u pick up my call??”
I had to end the conversation before she could discover the truth, so I ended up replying with a, “am busy, will talk later.”
“Oh…. um, ok :)”, was the last text she sent.
I did not talk with Violet for quite a few days. She called every night and I always replied with short texts like “am busy” or “can’t talk”. Why was I doing this? Maybe it was because I was afraid to show her my vulnerability, that I was loser, too afraid to stand up for myself. Or maybe, I was afraid that I would end up ruining things with her, like how I used to ruin everything.
After around a week, the calls stopped, and the hellish events of the school continued. I fell deeper into the VOID I had created for myself. I did not have anything to look forward to once again, as the weight in my chest grew heavier, each and every passing minute. Violet would live her own life, and I would continue living in my pitiful reality.
