Chapter 1
Dear Reader,
It’s easy to be a good person when everyone is watching. They see the polite nods, the easy laughter, the effortless charm. They see the team captain who never misses a shot, the student who always has the right answer, the friend who always knows exactly what to say. It is a performance, a well-rehearsed play with a standing applause every single day. But there are different kinds of noticing. There is the kind that takes in the surface, the bright lights and the loud noise. And then there is the kind that sees into the quiet corners, the places where people go when they think no one is looking. I am an expert at the first kind of seeing. But lately, I have become a student of the second.
Today, I saw Chloe. I see her almost every day, but I never see her really. She’s the shy girl who carries too many books, wears the same worn-out sweater, and talks to no one. The others, they don’t see her at all. She is part of the background noise, as invisible as the flickering fluorescent lights in the hallway. But today, Chloe was not invisible. Today, she was huddled on the steps by the library, a crumpled notebook clutched in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Her eyes threatened tears to fall down her sad face. The bell for lunch had rung, and the hallway had cleared out, but she was still there, a statue of sadness in the crowd of a busy school. The other students, if they noticed her at all, looked away. Some looked embarrassed, some looked annoyed. But no one stopped. And I didn’t either.
I walked past, part of the rushing current of bodies, my perfect smile fixed in place. I could feel the pull, the small voice in my head telling me to stop, to ask if she was okay. It would break the script. But the script was already broken so it didn’t matter. The image of her sitting there, her shoulders shaking, was a crack in the perfect facade. So, I took a detour. I went to my locker, a place where I am always alone, and I pulled out a small, blank card. I found a pen and, making my handwriting deliberately slow and even, I began to write.
I wrote, “The light in your soul is more real than the people who don’t see the beauty you are able to see.
quietness is not a weakness but a strength, a sign of a deep and thoughtful soul. Your light shines even in the dark.”
Later, when I was sure the hallways were empty, I walked by her locker and slipped the letter through the vent of her locker. I watched from around the corner as she approached, her eyes still red and swollen. She opened her locker, and the note fell out, a splash of cream-colored light against her dark sweater. She read it once, then again, her brow furrowed in confusion. Then, slowly, a small, genuine smile spread across her face and she clutched the letter against her, causing part of the paper to touch her heart.
Chloe’s fingers held the paper tightly like she was afraid that the letter would fly away from the air coming from the AC vent. I watched as Chloe shut her eyes tightly while hugging the letter. She quickly grabbed her bag and quickly ran down the hallway towards the two main doors.
PS: And for the first time all day, my own smile felt real, too.
From, Anonymous
