Put Your Heart Back in Your Body

You look around the crowd. There's those few people that seem to be doing the same thing and you make eye contact with each one. Your gaze leaves them each as quick as a frog's tongue and then you look on.

The town you're in is okay. It doesn't suck, it's actually fantastic, it's just that you have no one with you to enjoy life with, so this town you're in sucks.

You keep looking over the crowd at the mall, trying to place every single person's personality. It's quite easy, you're very streotypical, and it's easy to be, because everyone treats you streotypically. No one reached out a hand to help you.

And you keep thinking that everyone has ownership of an angry side, a comfortable side, a nothing side, an unhappy side, and a fake side. Being as quiet as you are has nothing to do with those sides, but mostly always you're living the nothing and angry sides. You're angry at the world a lot. You don't really know why.

The humming mall makes you feel even more nothing. It's like a broken television, never taking the right signal-yet alone any signal at all.

You're here at the mall because you needed a new favorite shirt, but then you kept seeing people in all the stores you like and usually go to. Friendly people. Friendly people are always on the fake side. You don't want to get close to any of them. You don't like fake.

Maybe that's why you're angry at the world. About half of it's fake now. Maybe that's not why, but it's a possibility.

Fianlly, you see a big department store where the section you'd like to buy clothes from is large, open, lonely, and clear of many people. The ones left are unfriendly shoppers, which means that they aren't on their fake side.

"What a plus," you think. Sarcastically or not, you kind of meant it both ways.

There's a plain gray t-shirt you like. It's less than $10, a good price, and $10 is all you have.

Perfect. New favorite shirt.

You exchange money with the bored looking customer service lady and give her a flash of less than half a smile. All you really did was press your lips together and make eye contact. What a lie that is. People shouldn't accept that as a definitive smile. Hypocritically though, that's all you're willing to give anyone.

There's one item in the small plastic bag. That's all you're willing to do here, and you feel a little more normal. You have a shopping bag just like over half the people in the crowded mall, and nobody puts a strange look on you for being alone without holding anything like a creep anymore.

Outside, the area is damp, cool, ans sunsetting. It feels good to leave the warming inside of the mall.

You walk awkwardly all around the perimeter of the great building to find the bus stop sign. Frankly, you have no idea if the bus is still running right now, but it's the only way you can get home.

After standing a while, you sit down on the curb and bending your knees was such a relief that you smile to yourself an actual smile and have a good thought.

"This is nice," your voice says. Sometimes you speak to remember what your voice sounds like, other times to make sure you can still speak or because it would be impossible to stay quiet.

Suddenly you remember that you forgot to try the shirt on. Too late.

"Hopefully it fits," you say to yourself again.
"If if fits I'll wear it tomorrow," you say.

Whoops. Now you're in a bad train of thought. You're thinking of school. School is even worse than the town because legally, you have to go every day. Although, no one looks at you too differently. That part is regualted by the adults. You're neutral towards them because you don't know. You really don't know. Maybe there is no reason. It's something that has bothered you, like why you don't know why you're angry at the world half the time. It sucks.

Soon after you first sit down, the mutlicolored bus comes.

It looks like it's covered in road grime and spit and it smells like burnt tire and old urine. You know that these buses are washed every day though because in the morning when you see them they're shining and clean looking.

You get on because it's the only way you're going to get home.

The inside smells like old people and the broken yellow lights give everything a tired, office-at-night feel. It makes you sigh and move to the cleanest seat you can find.

There's only two other people on this bus. An African American who rocks back and forth while staring absently at the seat in front of him and a slightly overweight white woman looking as tough as she can fake it. She reminds you of a crazy lady wrestler. It humors you to look at her watching you sit down away from her like she commanded you to stay away from her. People have weird social defense strategies. When they do that, they're seriously funny. Most people don't have any idea of how to defend themselves-all they try to do is what they've seen on the internet or the television.

It's one thing that genuinely makes you smile. Again for an unknown reason.

You sit next to the window so that you can see the things outside better. The bus sits for another minute at the mall, waiting to see if anyone else comes and rushes on. Obviously, no one else gets on, because no one rides the bus to the mall except for you probably. Everyone else drives or gets driven, or spends money on a taxi.

The bus's engine picks up again and it goes forward slowly at first. Here you can see the people of all ages come out of the mall from other exits to get to their cars.
"Oh it's getting dark! Time to go home and eat dinner!" you suppose they must be thinking.

There are people coming out of the doors without any bags and with other people-friends or family. They smile and you get a little jealous. You wish you could go to the mall with your family.

There's a stop sign, and just then you notice that the world outside the bus has gotten considerably darker. You look towards the sky and see that most of it is that weird pink-salmon color. You like how sunsets look, no matter what. Even if there is no color and just endless black raining clouds, you know there's still a sunset on top of those clouds and you've always wished you could see what that looked like. You know it would be just as pretty.

The overweight lady, you sat in the same row as her but on the other side, notices you smiling to yourself and you can tell out of the corner of her eye the intense uncomfortable feeling radiating from her. She's starting to get really strange and in turn, it's making you uncomfortable now. People usually ignore you, leave you alone, and don't notice you at all.

Your smile fades for that obvious reason, and you turn your whole head so that it faces completely to the window by your seat.