The Confident Anne

I have a hobby of helping. Well, more precisely is that I hate it when someone can’t do their job flawlessly. I have to mention that it bothers me a lot to currently being in a high school’s backstage and having to be looking at this long brunette hair girl who is about five meters away from me just freezing while the host is calling someone named Anne to go on stage. I suppose that’s the brunette’s name since someone who seems like a friend of the girl is pushing her towards the stage. She hasn’t move an inch though, how.. determined? Oh, now her friend leaves, I would understand, the friend is doing the right thing.

Hmm.. Should I help her? Should I not? Should I? Jokes on me, this is ruining my vibe. Okay, now I am walking to her direction, what a joke.

“You got a problem?” as I wrap my left hand around the brunette’s shoulders. She’s still…. not moving an inch…. Her body quivers like ‘wow’. Wait, I feel like she’s going to make a move, this is it. And… she is running outside.. alright.. This is sickening me, I’m following her.

I’m running and oh she’s fast. Ah, she stops, okay, let me breath. The brunette sits on the floor hugging her legs, tucking her head in. What’s her problem? I sit next to her. I put my right hand on her head, I grab her hair and I pull them up so I can see her face.

“OUCH, what are you doing?” she screams as she pulls my hand from her hair.

“What’s the big deal” I ask her with a rather high tone, because really, what is it with her..?

“Who gives you the right to pulled my hair?!” she follows with a higher tone.

“Oh, maybe your cowardness gave me the virtue to do so” I reply calmly, I perceived.

“How rude of you?” follows by a stream of tears and another episode of tucking her head in.

I have no idea in which area I am being rude, but let’s put up with her act, since I feel like.. I now am even more obliged to help her than ever.

“So, your name’s Anne? The host was calling you, right? What were you going to perform?” I ask her patiently.

She slowly pulls her own head up, “sing”, before pulling her head down again.

“Isn’t the point of being a singer is when you perform?” I’m really confused..

She pulls her head up again, this time faster, “w-well, no, I- I can sing for myself.. My-my voice entertain myself.”

Whoa, what is this, she’s stuttering.. is she.. being hesitant about it? However, that’s a very self-confident statement to say to a stranger, a bit too much even.. Not an argument I would use, no matter how flawless I am.

“Sing for me” I wonder what possibly make her that confident.

“W-well no, never, as of now, I’m quitting”, she stutters less.

If she stutters less, does it mean that she’s more confident about quitting it?

“Why?” I ask as a part of formality and a normal response.

“Well, something inside me tells me I should quit”, this time no stutters from her.

“Yeah, you should, you’re no good for that world”, I’m being very wise.

“B-but you-“ she is saying something before I cut her sentence.

“Let me help you” how nice of me to offer.

“I said I’m done with singing, why can’t you just leave me alone and stop being rude?” she offers back.

“Can you even do a presentation in class? Let’s start with that” I continue with my offer.

“I said leave me alone!” she yells as she hastily stands up and flees out leaving me.

This girl, I swear.. yeah, she definitely needs the help, let’s start.. on next Monday.

…

It’s Monday now, oh there’s the brunette- I mean, Anne.

“Sup” I keep her company, I don’t think she has any friend. We’re walking through the hallway before she gets in front of her locker and.. I don’t know why should I pay attention. But it seems like I was correct, she is having a presentation in class today.

“What are you doing, I said I don’t need you” she.. begs?

“You.. need me, darling, you need to stop lying to yourself” I weirdly try to convince her.

“Everyone has to help themselves.. on their own.. And, if I.. can’t nail my presentation, then that’s alright, I’m happy with that, it’s not like.. being able to give a presentation is every skill there is in the world” she replies which I don’t agree to.

“You’re a hypocrite, you’re not happy with that” I tell her only facts.

She just stands there, not replying, locks her locker and leaves me, again. Well, helping is not an easy task, we have to be patient, unfortunately. Alright, I’m just going to look from in front of her class by the time of her presentation turn.

…

And.. here we go. Alright, looking firm, getting her materials on her hand and oops she.. I don’t know how what it seems to be an accident, because, now her papers are everywhere around the floor. Not a great start, kid. And, now… She’s opening her mouth to say.. nothing. She just stands there like an idiot for a whole minute, how is this kid is supposed to survive in any worlds? Oh it’s been two minutes now, the teacher is yelling at her to just read it and the other kids are laughing. This is getting too embarrassing. I open the door of the class and grabs her arm and pulls her outside of the class.

“What are you doing?” now she’s speaking.

“No, what are you doing? You’re messing it up” because, really, what was she doing.

“I- I” she’s about to cry.

“Admit it, how are you suppose to help yourself if you can’t be honest with yourself? Tell yourself that you need me, because darling, you need me” I can’t stand her.

She’s actually crying now.

“I’m not going to ask for your permission nicely anymore. Do you want to be happy? Or do you prefer to be laughed at by your classmates for the rest of your life?” I honestly don’t really need her permission, I’m just being polite.

She’s calming herself down, she looks at me straight in the eye, and finally, “you have the right to remain in my life and help me whenever I need you.”

There we go, I smile at her, she smiles back at me. From today on, I’m in charge of a remote control in her life.

This is how Anne forms her second personality or what she likes to call as her alter ego who doesn’t jitter, doesn’t tremble, doesn’t cry, just confidently smiles while the audiences still knowing her as Anne.