Lone Girl: Part 2

Here is part 2 of the first fiction piece I shared on here. Feel free to check out part 1 here. Enjoy and let me know what you think in the comments!

Lone Girl: Part 2

“I’m really worried about her Ellen. What are we going to do? She needs to be social, but she isn’t and prefers to be alone. She needs help. Maybe a psychiatrist would help? That might help her become more social and outgoing.

“Alan. We can’t change our daughter. Why would we even try? She played alone for hours when she was little, and was never interested in a friend, why would she be now?”

“I know, but what if she ends up alone, with no one to care for her. She’s not doing well in school, and she might not get a good job if she doesn’t go to college! She has always wanted to quit school and I’m not sure that if I hadn’t threatened to kick her out, that she would have continued her education. I can’t stand this anymore! She needs to toughen up, and make some friends! What if we switched her school? Do you think she would make friends if no one knew her previously?”

“You know that wouldn’t work, Alan. We’ve done that before and it hasn’t worked. What is there left to try? And don’t say psychiatrist because that science is just a bunch of hooey. We don’t need to throw our hard earned money down the drain for something that may or may not work.”

“You don’t believe in the hooey of science? That stuff works! And what else are we supposed to do? We’ve tried everything else, and that hasn’t worked. What other option do we have? Leave her as she is? I will not do that when she is so obviously in pain and suffering.”

The girl turns away from her vent, praying that she doesn’t have to talk about her feelings in some tiny windowless room with someone she just met. She feels a dry heave coming at the thought. No, they couldn’t do that to her. They loved her, even though they tortured her every day with school and asking about friends. She absolutely hated it when they fought over her, like she was just some object that they needed to take care of.

She opened the curtains again, staring out over the ocean, at the revolving light. She was calmed when she opened her window to let in the salty air, and the far away rush of the waves. She had not slept in a long time and had barely kept her grades good. She had always had insomnia, so the prospect of sleep scared her.

When she was asleep, her unconscious mind had free rein to do whatever it wanted. Would she dream about being in a room with the shrink? Would she revisit school and the pain and suffering? Would she finally lose her cool façade with her parents and be forced to share her morbid, advanced thoughts?

She was sure there had to be someone like her somewhere in the world. She was not alone, and it was a scientific impossibility that she was completely unique and did not share an interest with anyone. She was going to find a friend, and if that meant moving to another school to appease her parents, she would.

Her father had bought the house overlooking the harbor for its great view of the town on one side, and the ocean on the other. He had thought that the view would help the girl become friendlier and less morbid. It had worked, to an extent. Or maybe it was just her learning curve catching up. She learned that talking to people about things such as death, or how they would like to die as a first conversation was not a good idea. In fact it was a horrible one! She would stop talking to people at all, so as to avoid the awkward stares and whispers.

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