From the outside

[akonken.livejournal.com]

That girl was back again today.

She only showed up about half the time these days, always looking like she might be about to cry. Paul used to invite her to the pub, but stopped after about the eightieth time she didn't show - always apologising profusely the next day, but there's only so much energy you can spend on someone.

I've never spoken to her myself. She makes me uncomfortable. Something's wrong there.

But I do notice when she's around.

I don't think I've ever heard her speak. She never offered an answer to anything, she just listens very intently. Her note-taking (from what I've seen over her shoulder) is thorough and neat. If she made class more often, I might ask to copy them sometime.

But she doesn't.

I don't know how she hasn't been kicked out, to be honest.

Anyway, she was there today. She showed up late, trying to tiptoe to her seat. The professor clearly wanted to give her a bollocking, but couldn't stomach it. She looked more upset than usual, as if she was about to break.

Sometimes I wonder what's so bloody awful with her life that she looks that way. Sometimes it pisses me off - I'm not sure if I'm angry at her, or at whoever's making her unhappy. But dear god, why is she even here if her life is so hard?

And what can be that bad, anyway?