Short Story from College – Iridescence or despair?
Photo credit: xenia from morguefile.com
As the sweet melody dissolves in the air what would it be, iridescence or despair?
Bleak had been attending college for over a week now, and she still had no clue about who taught her history.
So one fine day, she gathered all her courage and spoke to the only teacher of history she could recognize, and told her the truth. Though she assumed her to be mad for being such a klutz, Ms Propitious had a huge smile on her face and a heart so welcoming, Bleak could almost lose herself in her light. As kinky as it sounds, little did Bleak know, she had found her quintessence of hope.
Being upfront, this is not another inane story about a teacher-student relationship, it is the story about a girl knee-deep in hopelessness and her angel in disguise.
As the downpour was hesitant about stopping, so was Bleak as she stared at the tiny droplets racing down the glass.
Yet another day had passed since she last painted. The insolent artist had somehow lost her way amidst the chaos. But who could tell what kept her up most nights.
Dreaded days, lonely nights;bleak was unable to let it all out, no matter how many times she picked up her brushes. Something was terribly wrong and kept her family guessing. Now that high school was coming to an end, bleak thought about the people she had lost over the years. People she thought were her friends. People she loved. Trusted. Let in.
She was firm about not getting attached again;not letting anybody through her invisible shell. She was safe here. They couldn’t hurt her anymore.
Some assumed, some saw, some knew.. But they all judged, and walked away.
Bleak was gay. Although she came out to her parents and her world, all her courage didn’t seem to matter much.
Ah, If only the innocent little girl knew what was at stake.
Life at school was hell. Even the teachers thought twice before saying or doing something. She was practically boycotted by her friends, as they passed their comments. What hurt most was the fact that people had sympathy in their eyes. As if she was sick and they hoped she would get better.
“One more month”, quoth bleak to herself. One month and it’ll all change. She’ll be off to college and maybe, just maybe, things would get better.
She was done with school. She took her SAT’s and was done with the application process, and before she knew it; she was at a brand new place with strangers around her. Bleak wanted to major in sociology. Or Homosexual psychology would do just fine.
Bleak spent a week feeling invisible, till she met her teacher of history. And in the spur of a moment, bleak forgot about her troubles; just like that. Poof and everything else didn’t seem to matter much anymore, now that both of them knew that there was something special about her. Something people cling on to. Something people want. Respected. Appreciated.
Those puny compliments, uncannily, were changing bleak’s whole world.
All she wanted her whole life was for people to look past her sexual orientation, love her and appreciate her for who she was, not put labels and walk through the halls saying “lesbian” and judge her for who she liked. And now she had it. She had that someone. To many, it wouldn’t mean anything to be praised, but to her; it meant the world. Cause this one person chose to stay. This one person believed in her. This one person could save her with her words. This one person appreciated her art.
And that was all she ever wanted.
And now she had it, and nobody could take it away from her.
“You”, said Miss propitious, “can do wonders, walk tall.”
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