The One Who..

I'm the one who stares blank-faced thinking of tomorrow, next week or next year when people think she's angry, sad or just mad at someone and don't want to talk about it and when she admits the truth, they think she's trying to wave them off.

When her classmates are roaming around the corridors, gossiping about this girl or that, she'd be sitting behind at class, reading. At the bus, she'd take down a paper and a pen, waiting for inspiration to strike when the others are chattering about their day and how unfair particular teachers were.

During lunch breaks, she'd hurriedly have her meal, eat it alone or with some friends at class then ward off to the library and start moving her fingers over the titles of the English section, looking for a new and interesting book to read or some cool facts to learn about. When she comes back to class, without asking where the hell she was, they'd laugh and tell her it was totally expected as she's a nerd.

At home, she's either doing her homework, researching, reading, watching TV or writing. At bed time, she'd grab the book on her nightstand and start reading where she left, slowly, her tired eyes lull her to a good night sleep where she dreams of extraordinary things that the moment she wakes up, she'd jot them down.

When asked about her opinion, she speaks out truthfully, not afraid to edit some thoughts for the impression that she's rude, because, after all, they asked for it. When told off, she'd learned not to take it personally and simply listen, take what she thought was relevant and flush down the rest.

While walking, playing or even laughing, words form into her mind in their own way as if it was the force of habit that she narrates everything. When looking at certain things, she'd see them as words in print or in her scrapbook or her blog...she keeps searching for minor details to spice up the topic, and immediately, everything takes shape within minutes.

As soon as she's been given money, she thinks of which books to spend it on. She'd do her homework: logging on to special sites to check reviews and best-selling lists and type down those that interest her. Printing the paper, she insists on heading to Borders and buying whatever on the list. Then, she just can't wait to get back home and start reading already.

She's the one who dreams of her own library, her huge book-shelves and the smell of books filling in her place. She dreams of her library filling in with people, close-marching in lines for her to sign on their copies of her novel.

She knows so much of this might come true, but till then, she'll keep dreaming.