Metafiction

I saw him today, we stared at each other, without a word.

“Sylvia? That SILENT girl? I don’t really know her that well, you know”

That's what she said few minutes ago.

Whenever I try to eavesdrop sneakily on a conversation about me, this is what I get to hear all the time. Yes, I am a bit quiet, well actually, a lot. But, I have never thought of it as a disadvantage for me. There is always a bunch of different people everywhere. I am just one of them: the one who talks a little less than others, the one who is more peaceful inside.

Well, anyway, I believe you at least get the skim of what I am like. Oh and whenever I start talking about myself, I can never exclude this one special, heart-beating-fast story of mine!

Though I have almost always been a firm representative of those “introverts”, there was this one time when I was as brave as the “cool girls” in my class. What I meant by the “cool girls”, you know, there is always this certain group of cool, social girls in each school. For my class, I have always had this desire to be like this girl named Jane. She talks a lot; whoever she meets, he or she becomes friends with Jane in a few seconds; whatever she says, it’s just hilarious. Well I am not jealous of those. The only thing that I envy Jane is the fact that she is cool with the boys too. Oh my lord, what am I talking about! Now I am really going to tell you my story.

Okay so there was this time when I became really brave. It was when I was in 10^th grade, yeah it was last year; I am pretty much sure about this. Although I don’t understand myself now, I used to like this one senior. Well, I was so in love with him, shall I say. His name was Woong, the one with two o’s, not the one with a u in the middle. Seriously, he was my dream boy I could have ever imagined in my whole life: extraordinarily enormous eyes, sexy Mohawk hair, voice with phlegm, and most importantly, the razor he sent me, coming out of his huge eyeballs. I was pretty much close friends with him, except that he already had “something” with this girl called Romy in junior. I couldn’t stand that. What was more annoying was that she always laughed at me whenever she saw me; even in the elevator, she pointed me with her finger!!!!

I wasn’t being mean; I just couldn’t live like that anymore. It was more unbearable than the Intolerable Acts of 1774. I had to do something, something to relieve my mind from the stress I get while thinking of her annoying self. And then this one brilliant idea suddenly came to me.

‘I will get him! He’s mine now!’

Since it was the first time for me to ask out someone, well actually the first time even imagining myself asking out a boy, I had to make a plan for more than two days. And I was READY, ready enough to get that Romy out of Woong’s sight.

The day was Thursday, the colored-milk day. And it was good because I could meet Woong and Romy at the same time while getting the milk at night. As expected, Woong and Romy came together with bright smiles on their face, looking at each other. They were about to pass me by. This was the time! I literally flew into Woong and hugged him as hard as I could. Though I didn’t see his face, I could feel his surprise. After making sure that Romy left while crying out like a baby, I ran back fast to my room 603, without even explaining anything to Woong. I believed he could feel everything.

So then what happened? Nothing. Nothing special happened, except that Woong refused to see me for a year, after that incident. But it didn’t hurt, probably because I earned a bigger thing: courage. I showed myself that I could do something that much brave if I really wanted to do so. No you don’t have to feel sorry for me. I am okay, really.