“If there is a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, you must be the one to write it.” –Toni Morrison

Someone told me he can lend me some of his books.

But, I am a kind of someone who doesn’t like to read long stories.

Nor interested to sit in the corner of my room, reading literature to seek the emptiness that I am currently living.

Sometimes, I would like to read books, but I don’t have the list or a preference, specific preferences, to kill my time. And so, I begin to make a book. A book that only I, myself, can read, can feel, and can indulge in its unique styles - a weird one.

“You know you’ve read a good book when you turn the last page and feel a little as if you have lost a friend.” –Paul Sweeney

I had read one book that lasts for a month in my immature imagination about how interesting it was to read. And as a non-reader, I would love to read the rest of the sequels of it but unfortunately, the book was not mine, and I have no right to lend the rest of it nor given a chance as my life is not a river, I don’t live as if I’m a water, following the laminar and turbulence of life.

If I were to describe my life, probably it’s like a planet with only land, shovel and water. For me to be able to live like a free water, I need to make my own way, my own canal to begin my journey.

I have a little background about making creative stories as I am inclined in writing back in my early childhood life. I love to read short stories with lots of printed pictures in it and, I would love to read and read and read the same short story all over my life, but that was when I was a kid. Later on, some of my teachers introduced me to writing articles. At first, I am hesitant as I am not confident in my vocabularies and style of work but as the daily training continued, it shaped me, and it became one of my hobbies.

Although they always gave me articles than short stories with pictures in it, it somewhat caught my interest as I am still ignorant about the real deal of writing.

One time, my interest got lost. I hate to read books, both academic books and short stories. I also hate studying as if it took all my childhood life that everyone, except me, should enjoy. But there is one thing that’s bothering me right now, why did I lose my interest in books? And why is it like the soul of the books are hunting me, for what reason? Is it to read them? Or to make them?

But, here is for sure, that someone who asked me if I’m interested in lending his book made my soul creep with complex of reasons that me, myself cannot imagine.

Back when I was in middle school, I like being alone in our room. While other girls were chatting about their love lives, I guess, or constantly grooming in front of the huge mirror at the back portion of our room, I… Am… Just… Sleeping… In… My… Desk.

To be honest, I am not pretty nor ugly, just imagine a normal-faced-but-stressed-on-the-inside look girl but not a nerd.  I… would rather not talk about my academic performance though but yes, I am a normal, plain, boring, student type at that time. I didn’t even imagine making a company, consisting of beautiful, talented and intelligent girls (it’s a compliment). While they were all enjoying their lives as teenagers, I am fighting my own battle how to sleep in a comfortable position using this not-so-special-type of chair, a normal one, like me.

 “Should I read some books over there?”, while resting my head at the top of my hands.

“But I’m lazy to stand up, ugh, never mind, I’ll just watch the ceiling and wait until the class’s free time is over.”

Then suddenly, one of my classmate, Aimee, talked to me about my eyelashes.

“Hey May, where did you get that long lashes of yours?”, she asked while touching my lashes as I am pretending to be asleep.

“To my parents”, I answered sleepily.

“Yes I know, but who to be exact, mother? Father?”, she asked curiously.

(May’s inner self: “Damn, I’m just trying to sleep. Stop asking me.”)

“I got the long lashes' gene to my father and a curvy lashes gene to my mother, adios, I’m trying to sleep.”, I answered.

Fortunately, she stopped asking me but unfortunately, our teacher for the last day’s subject entered the room that results to quick change in my room’s environment. A normal room setup.

“Ms. Secretary, please write it on the board ‘coz we’re having a short quiz about this for tomorrow’s schedule”, Mr. Nathan, our Ad-Tech teacher, who likes to ask our classroom secretary, Rheanne, to do her job as secretary.

(*Ad-Tech means Advance Technology*- though there is no such thing like Ad-Tech)

As usual, my classmates at the back were all murmuring as they were all lazy when it comes to note-taking. Though even me hates it, but it’s better than trying to sleep in an uncomfortable chair while some of your seatmates were trying to distract your concentration.

As I am writing, my point of vision accidentally rolled outside our room, some students were going home already, while the soccer team are having their afternoon practice in the school field, then I saw a hardworking classmate of mine, Brian, writing constantly as if he’s having a writing competition and I guess it’s right ‘coz I saw Joseph, who’s trying to distract him to slow his pace of writing. I smiled then continued writing.

As Rheanne finished writing, some of my classmates took their cellphones out of their pockets and start taking pictures in front of me. I am a little annoyed ‘coz all I can see are their backs and hands trying to capture all the writings in the board. But, I am more annoyed to him (pointing at Mr. Nathan) as he’s letting his student do these stuffs.

“What’s the point of Rheanne’s effort if we’re just allowed to take pictures of it.”, I murmured.

“May chill, don’t get upset, as soon as we finished writing, we are done, while they need to write it in their respective homes.”, Justine answered.

Justine, is a girl, okay, she’s my seatmate and a friend.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Then Mr. Nathan take his leave. No teacher means free time and as it was our last subject, the usual things start again. Some girls rushed to the mirror to brush their hair, to put their lipsticks on, and braid their hairs, boys… um… the boys were divided like three to four groups, the responsible group who picked the broom to start sweeping the floor, the lazy group who starts playing with their phones, the musical group who starts strumming and singing while the class next door were still discussing that results to Mrs. Mary’s lecture (our history teacher) and lastly the outside group, they just literally go outside the room to excuse their selves in cleaning the room.

Me? What am I doing? Well, I am just… sitting in the arm of my chair (even though it is a prohibited action) watching them as I know the moment that when we start to depart to become senior high school students, these faces of my classmates were no longer be the same and complete.

As we finished cleaning the room and start heading to the school gate, we always walk in the oval rather than in the room pathways. I would rather like it though. The fresh air, some students dancing in the field while the soccer team training is still ongoing, a normal middle school life that I desire.

“I’m hungry.”, I murmured.

“Then, let’s buy a bundog outside!", Kim, a friend of mine, actively grab my neck while jumping.

(*Bundog does not literally mean a dog. It is a short term for a bread bun and a hot dog.)

“No, I need to save money, can I just bite in …”, I didn’t even finish my statement as she dashed to Justine to save her bundog’s life.

“Justinee! Wait for me!”

“What the…ugh”, I smiled while looking at them.

Our school is one of the biggest school campus in our province that is why, the oval is also big. And as I am enjoying myself, a person caught my attention, it’s My mysterious guy. I am not referring to a non-living guy nor a spy student, I am referring to a person who caught my attention since I started attending middle school. And as usual, he’s with his friends. I wonder how he acts toward his friends, that is why I gave him that wonderful alias – My mysterious guy.

“May, watch out!”, Key dragged me abruptly by her side.

“What?!”. I answered, air headedly.

“Watch out, or he will see you and think that you’re interested in him.”

Key, a friend of mine and also the one who knows about my interest slash unknown feelings toward My mysterious guy.

“Ehhh, impossible.”

“So, any improvement slash achievement?”, she asked teasingly.

“Achievement? Well, nothing? I still don’t get the perfect position to sleep in the armchair.”

“What an air head. I am talking about him.”, while pointing to My mysterious guy.

“Achievement? How come? Is he a game? A level to be finished? Achievement? Huh?”

“I mean any… you know… like did you already have his contact number, or his um friend’s contacts? To slowly connect with him?”, she asked continuously.

“I don’t need it. What do you think am I? A stalker? What the…”, I shouted that even Kim and Justine heard my words from the distant.

“No, I’m just teasing you. Calm down or I’ll call his name.”

“Ugh, call his name, whatever.”

I didn’t expect ‘coz she really called his name.

“Oi, what are you doing?”, murmuring towards Key.

“Calling his name. Are you jealous, baby girl?”, then she ran towards him.

To be honest, yes. Because I cannot call him by his given name, it’s awkward, or I am just thinking it’s awkward. I am jealous ‘coz my friends can approach him without any hesitation, while I can’t even say his name nor walk in front of him to take a shortcut route from the front door of our room to my seat.