Never Just Watch
There was never a time when she wasn’t looking. When there weren’t tears that made her almond colored eyes glisten. She thought she was alone but I guess she didn’t watch as closely as she thought. I watched her. I watched everybody. I watched attentively as peoples pencils landed and rose from their papers. These movements were thunderous to my ears. I watched myself watching her, my sad moments of realization. When I knew there was something wrong when nothing ever made sense to me. There was so much of what meant nothing. She was tall skinny and always misunderstood. She had friends but they weren’t her real friends. At least they never pointed at her bright green hair that had strikes of midnight blue all settled neatly in fragile curls upon her shoulders falling around her face like a mane of excellence, nobody appreciated. It represented royalty and courage. One thing made me fall in love with her, she never wore her head down while walking down the crowed halls, she was the boss, until some heartless person came and shoved her into the wall or made her fall flat on her face. Sometimes I blame myself although I know I shouldn't. If I had ever at least once met her eyes and smiled at her that smile others kill to get, it could have probably all changed. She was that dog everybody liked to kick. She wasn't ravenous she was an angle floating higher with every step. I have no idea why she didn’t descend from the heavens every morning. Instead she stepped out of the devil's car, where smoke slowly drifted from the inside and crackles of their hated towards her echoed in ones ear, her nightmare and the final push to her exile from this land. I watched her, but my mistake was to never step into her life, to be the one to protect her from all the madness, to be a cause for her to be stronger. I blame myself still to this day. If only I had gone to her the day I saw her crying. If only I had entered the girl’s bathroom the day I heard her sobbing. I should have been her friend when her only friends turned their backs to her to avoid being picked on. I should have asked her why she dyed her hair back to its original hazel brown. This back fired her, instead of having people ignore her, hate came shooting at her stronger and continuously. I don’t understand why she was a victim why she was everyone’s target. I saw her growing weak as days ended. I saw it in her eyes; she didn’t want to deal with any of this anymore. She was so strong. At home things were as bad as they were at school no exceptions maybe even worse; I wish I could have been there to. OH! I blame myself. I could have helped her! But I was too late. It wasn’t all over the news but word did get around. There was a huge memorial at school. I didn’t go. They said she locked herself in her room after having argued with BOTH her parents. Why did everybody lack love for her. I didn’t, I loved her, I still do. Who knows what happened in there but the next morning as her mother walked into her room to start another argument she found Neftali lying on the floor. She is no longer crying. I believe she's still watching. She’s become what she wasn’t seen as here on earth an angel.