FICTION
Yours Truly, Nerd, 12-A
A side seldom voiced out.
It is just another school day. Just another break time with another staring-out-of-the-window session while the entire school creates a ruckus, gossips, or watches their crushes from the back of hidden walls while teachers lie in wait to catch any of them red-handed. The noise is so deafening, I am deaf to it now. Like every day, my company is the little squirrel that runs away if I move and the crow that is courageous enough to come close and then fly away. If I don’t talk, nobody bothers. If I talk, nobody bothers. If I am lucky, someone will bother only to enlighten me about how I have a much better life at school than any of them. I don’t see any of the others talking to squirrels.
I often wonder what is the nature of the crime that has condemned me to such existence. Not that a squirrel is a bad company, it’s just that sometimes I wish it spoke back to me. I have been quiet for so long that it seems to surprise people when I talk. “Oh! So you talk too!” they say. Yes, I talk. I can talk better than everyone if I tried. I know this because a voice never ceases in my head which I believe is the greatest talker known to me. The voice keeps me going despite the nature of my crimes.
But, I seldom try.
Why one may ask. Well, there was a time when I tried. I even did well. Until everything changed. We all grew a little older. Not old enough to know right from wrong, not young enough to not care. Suddenly, a score of things needed our attention, books were the least of our worries. Putting effort into studying became a shameful way of existence. Being good at it became a crime. Everybody gave up becoming skilled in looking beautiful. Learning was unacceptable.
But I like to learn. Maybe that is my crime.
I cannot help being good at things, I can’t help scoring well in tests or exams. I don’t try to beat others, I just try to do my best. My crime is that others don’t bother about giving their best. Even when I underperform I end up looking like I did well. All of this is my fault.
Before long, I became ‘The Nerd’
With being ‘the Nerd’, I am also ‘boring’, ‘gullible’, ‘too quiet’, and more.
“Have you finished the English homework, Ro?”
Why do they always have to ask something so suddenly?
“ Y.y.yeasss..” I stammer.
Why do they have to ask this question over and over again? They can ask, “How are you, Ro?” or “What are your hobbies, Ro?” or “Why are you always looking at the squirrel Ro?” Not that they would notice the squirrel.
“See, I told you she would have finished it. Can you give your notebook, I shall copy.”
I give them a notebook. Once upon a time I would have told them to learn too in the process because whether they like it or not they need to pass the course. Homework was an easy way to do it. Not anymore. They would rather cry over failing than do something about it.
Of course, they can live their lives however they choose to. I have no complaints. I only wish they let me live my life however I want.
I keep wondering what I do that gets on their nerves. I come as late as allowable so that I don’t get in anybody’s way. Whenever I pass by, they seem to go quiet. They resume talking after I am gone. Maybe they think I don’t notice. I wouldn’t dream of causing this inconvenience to them. But sometimes it happens despite me being careful.
Things escalate quickly when the teachers dote on me. I am a model student apparently. That is certainly not my intention. I try hard to hide from them. I don’t open up for anything. I never answer questions even when I know it before everyone. I don’t ever want to. I do it only when I sense that if no one answers the teacher is going to get offended and punish all of us. It gets on everyone’s nerves when a teacher appreciates me. I don’t blame them. They never get appreciated even when they show improvement. I guess it’s only natural that they feel wary of me. (I am a model student only because I never speak back)
But some wish me dead or deported too, I heard. Apparently, I steal their opportunities. I never bothered to check the truth of it. It’s too painful.
These days, I try not to study too much. I try my best to be careless so that I score fewer marks or fail. Just to show them in big and bold that I fail too, just like everyone. The problem is that I try again. I should curb that habit. Maybe then they will like me, I think. I even go to great lengths to help people do well. Even when I have loads to finish. Maybe then they will like me, I think. I know I am wrong. But I hope.
I feel guilty for being good. I feel guilty that I am talented. I seem to be able to do well at whatever I pick. I put a lot of effort though, it’s not like I was born a Mozart or Einstein. I keep telling this to people too. It never reaches any ears.
Sometimes when I get too worked up about all this, when I get annoyed, I think one day I will be rich and successful and all these people who are mean to me will come to me with their tongues tied and tails tucked in.
But that is not what I want. I want everyone to succeed. My dreams don’t just have me in them, they have all of them too, living their dreams, whatever it is. They confide in me sometimes, tell me things they rarely spoke about to their friends. It will mean nothing to me if only I were successful. I tell them this too.
It never reaches any ears.
The efforts were so unfruitful, I gave up. I stopped trying.
And now the squirrel is my constant company. Not that he stays for long.
I never thought I would discover the word loneliness by experiencing it first-hand.
Everybody takes it for granted that people who do well are the happiest. Maybe in a lot of ways, they are better off. But nobody is without fears, worries, and problems. Perhaps the best thing would simply be to mind one’s own business, and reach out only when truly necessary.
I only hope this experience doesn’t paralyze me whenever I meet anyone new. I hope I don’t lose the ability to trust people. I hope I will have friends someday. I hope that this loneliness doesn’t last forever. I hope. I hope. I hope.
