: "Who's Daniel?" The crowd looked around, soft
murmurs of contemplation filled the air. No one could answer the question.
"I'm Daniel," I said as I raised my hand. "Are you ready to give
your report?" Dr. Linda Schultz asked. "Yes", I replied, slightly
hesitant, mostly nervous. I started walking towards the front of the class,
staring at blank faces. They had no emotion, nor knew who I was. To them, I was
the kid who sat in the back of their Gender and Sexuality 104 class, never
spoke, not even a sound. No one knew I was even there. Today however, was
report day and I had to give my report. This was the longest walk I've ever
had, or at least it felt like it. My report was done and I was pretty proud of
it. I rehearsed it at least a thousand times in my dorm. So why am I so
nervous?
I finally reached
the front of the room. "You have 5 minutes to speak on your topic."
She had a stopwatch in her hand, "the timer will start when you start to
speak." My heart dropped, my feet melted into the floor as my mind froze.
‘Deep breaths Daniel,’ I had to remind myself, ‘deep breaths.’ I started to
open my mouth, as I did the blank faces became visible. I could see the
judgment from their eyes. But how can
you judge something or someone you don't know. They were and it was very
evident. My face became pale, the sound
of the classroom dead silent. Or was it? I slowly looked around only to see
snickering voices that I couldn't hear. "Daniel,” a faint voice started to
fade in, “Daniel.” I looked over to Dr. Schultz. “Daniel, class is almost...”
She looked at her watch, “over. Okay class we will start with Daniel’s report
on Monday.” She turned to me, “Be ready next Monday or I will dock you points.”
I hurried through the halls, covering my face of embarrassment. I dare not look
them in the eyes. Even without looking at their eyes, I could feel the judgment
in their glare. The kid who froze up in class, forgot how to speak. That idiot
kid who for his lines, who dropped the ball. No, I couldn’t look my peers in
the eyes. Funny thing is, the souls that stared at me were not even people in
my class. These people had no idea of my stage fright or my humiliation form
class, still I could feel them judging me. I kept my head down until I had
completely escaped the campus, not even stopping at my dorm to see if my
roommate was there.
As I drug my feet
across the busy streets of Downtown, I saw a man sitting in front of a
building. His clothes tattered, his hair looked like unkempt ball of yarn that
had been thrown in the bottom of grandma’s purse. He had a sign made out
of old, soggy cardboard that read,
"Homeless- please spare food or change". His face looked depressing
and lifeless. This man had nothing. I
dare not stop, he would beg me for money. Why not just get a job? Besides, I
was already late meeting up with Mary Rose, no doubt in my mind she would be
upset. I walked up to the jagged picket fence ready for the wrath of my
girlfriend. The chime of her doorbell sent an unfamiliar chill down my spine.
The door slowly creped open. "Sorry I'm late babe." I quickly started
to explain. "You're fine." She replied her face neither mad nor sad.
She looked tired, not physically but mentally, as if she had something on her
mind that was killing her inside. Some kind of emotional turmoil that would not
allow her to sleep. Her long black hair split at the ends, dyed once too many
times, a mess not like the usual up kept and stylish way. Her nails often
painted now bare, her skin seem dry. Mary, standing about five eight usually,
today hunched over to a five-six or five-five. She sat on her couch lifeless,
without makeup to hide her tired eyes. She wore a baggy sweatshirt I had never
seen before, it looked used, a male size large. Most likely her dad’s, seeing
he attended our school years before. It had a few grass stands from a possible
football game from back in the day.
