A Small Non-Fiction

 She walks through the crowded hallways, the male by her side, speaking of things that could only be shared between them. Curly auburn hair pulled back into a restrictive band of rubber, eyes glowing pale green with dull interest and holding a sheet of paper with her latest creation, looking forward to showing the tiny girl with jet black hair and beautifully maroon spheres.
She sees them, the girl and her beloved, talking and walking away from her, 'Please wait' she screams in her head, glasses sliding slightly down the bride of her nose with the effort to catch up with them before they disappear down the staircase.
With luck she managed to reach them, the male following behind with a smile, and holding up the picture to the one with black hair, waiting for her approval.

"Look who I drew!"

The girl smiled, amused at the artwork, causing the auburn haired one to laugh in an ecstatic way, knowing that the girl approved of her fictional character. Glancing at the beloved however, and back to the girl from behind the picture, something seemed to have changed.

"Run along now."

The tiny girl commanded the artist, who obeyed, for what reason is unknown to her; leaving all three to talk to each other. She goes in the classroom and sits, suddenly feeling the rejection, how cleverly hidden behind a childish smile....
Loneliness is what she felt.
Rejection is what she always felt.
They leave the girl to reflect on herself, which is some cases is a horrible thing to let her do.
The male will then sit beside her, to talk about everything other than what he was just conversing about.
'They hate me. They all hate me.'
The voice in her head only repeats this self-loathed phrase, her subconscious telling her 'you're still alone, you've only tricked yourself into thinking you're actually one of them';
'There is nothing they want to do with you and no one will ever understand your thoughts', telling her she's worthless and that even her own mother would do better off without her.
She jerks back violently, only to respond logically to the questions the male asks of her, little things, great things, never will tell him the truth however.
The girl knows she will one day die, with them all regretting how close they could've been, a selfish thought though it would be the case. Tears don't fall from these feelings, not anymore, the girl has grown to accept them, even believe the words and the shrewdness that lies within them.
One day she will say goodbye, goodbye to no one in the room that is her own, a spontaneous act with no justification yet with all the reasoning in the world.

"Here's a lullaby to close your eyes..."