Why Should I Care? (2007)

Wrote on: April 1st, 2007

((AN:// I wrote this after a stage in my life where I was very angsty and hateful. This is an autobiography of an intense experience I had in 2007.))

I felt like screaming.

The anger I felt then was something so, unreal at the time.

I thought of myself as a different person, but the look on her face said otherwise, that in fact, I was the one who did that.

I who caused her the pain.

Who told the truth to her face so she could realize what she really became.

What society and herself allowed and controlled her to do.

She became someone I know longer knew, she let the few deadly sins that takes peoples lives destroy hers, with my words.

I felt like a jerk.

But I didn’t care right know.

Tears started to form at the corner of her eyes, and then flooded over her lids.

She dropped to her knees, then on all fours so her face couldn’t be seen. Soft sobs started to escape from her lips. Her delicate fingers with those well filed nails dug into the carpet floor beneath her. And she felt pathetic.

I towered over her cowering body. She looked helpless.

How pathetic.

She was the one who did this to herself. I just told her exactly what was seen through my words. What everyone thought of her as. I don’t care what she thinks about me now.

But it felt good to let those words out of how ungrateful and selfish she had become.

Her sobs became heavier. Her attempts to stop crying became harder, the hot tears became abundant.

She kneeled down, head on her arms and curled up in defense from my voice, trying to block me out.

But I already invaded her mind with my venomous sayings. She was already lured in.

I glare at her, and continued what I had to say about her. What everyone had thought and already knew, but couldn’t muster to say.

But something I said had struck her, and she looked up at me, and I saw her eyes.

Eyes, that glimmered new tears ready to burst, and could remind anyone of the sparkling ocean with her deep azure colored eyes.

Her eyes, widened and fear struck, stopped momentarily to look at me. To see what I was saying was really true in my eyes.

“Why do you let popularity manipulate you till you’re nothing but floating rumors? Because people thought of you as some kind, cute girl, you just let that pride; lust, anger, and envy take over huh? You wouldn’t even try to start acting better would you? You’d just crawl back to society and cry your little heart out to get attention.”

Tears returned spilling over her eyes. It seems every word I said struck a cord in her heart painfully.

Because she knew I was right, and she couldn’t help herself, so why should I.

That’s why I gave no words of comfort to her if she really did want to change herself.

That’s why I left her there alone to cry in her misery, her self-pity of what she is.

She will never have the intelligence of what few possess that I know of.

I walked past her, not uttering a blink, and kept my face as impassive as it was when I started this dialogue with her.

Her cries echoed after me, trying to haunt me, but I ignored it, thinking of it as a small nuisance to not worry about.

“Hey what’s u-!” I heard the words of a friend.

But one look that she took of me explained everything that I just did.

She was also friends with the girl who’s kneeling away grieving, and she knew, just by looking at my face, what I had done.

She rushed past me, and down the hallway from the room I just came out of at the very end.

All I did was turn back around, exit the building, and left to go home, letting the sunshine that bloomed in the sky welcome me into the light.

Why should I care if she didn’t even want to help herself?