As I watch her standing there, I can almost see her inner self, huddled and silent in her core. Not daring control the outer shell. She was too far out of her element to even think about moving. The bell rings, we begin to flow through the halls. She keeps her arms wound tightly over her chest, as if to block out the unfamiliar world around her, and keep herself within. I follow behind. She does not look for familiar faces, instead she just continues to move forward, step, step not caring where she goes.
Up the stairs she moves, momentarily releasing her arms to pump them at her sides. Having released her arms she walks naturally for a while, but the closer she gets to our class the farther in she withdraws. In her small moment of comfort she looked so beautiful I wanted so much to see if I could keep her from withdrawing completely again. But by the time I had worked up the courage she was back to a shell leaning against a wall, arms crossed.
I stood with my group. Sneaking small glances in her direction and when we were aloud back into the room a brief smile played on her face. From a snippet of conversation or a memory I don’t know, but it was enough to make me stumble, rather than walk into the room. As class began I gazed at her wishing she would smile yet again. Maybe tomorrow I’ll take her hand and lead the shell she is now back to animation. Or maybe, I’ll wait another day.
Short
Created on 10-7-07
Views(87)
Story Rating G
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