Jealousy

To me, the most dangerous thing is being alone. For most of my life, I’ve been alone, so trust me. I would know. 

For some unknown reason, it was impossible for me to make lasting friends. All of my relationships were short lived; my friends either moved away, started ignoring me, or betrayed me. At some point, I gave up on making friends. It was painful, but it was for the best. 

At least it saved me from the looming disappointment and fear of losing people close to me, which was a relief. 

The only problem was the searing pain I felt whenever I saw others surrounded by those close to them. I wanted nothing more but to live that reality, the reality I had long since given up on. But people leading “normal” lives surrounded me and there was nothing I could do about it. 

In school I was a loner, too; even though there were people I talked with every day, I didn’t hold any of them particularly close. I spoke with them in class, and after that, we parted ways, and that was that. But when I saw them enjoying themselves because of other people… that made me angry. 

Envy, frustration, rage, and other negative emotions would swirl in my mind until I couldn’t think straight. I would end up feeling upset for the rest of the day or longer. I despised those lingering feelings, but I knew that if I even attempted to reach out to other people, my heart would end up shattered again. It was simply no use. 

With no friends to sit with during school lunch time, I often went to lunch study club. It was a little chaotic with people sprawled around the library all the time, but the atmosphere was cordial nonetheless. Besides, as a child, I had become familiar with books and the library environment. The very idea that I was surrounded by knowledge and stories I could only dream of was thrilling to me; libraries were a part of my childhood, a part of me that I could never erase. Whether it was a school library, a community one, or an extravagant library with collections of global works, I found solace in that familiar feeling of being surrounded by knowledge. 

The library held a special place in my heart. Since I spent so much time there as a child, I had learned to read incredibly quickly and could read books and novels multiple grade levels above my own. The kind of escapism that reading provided me with was unmatched by anything and everything else. The places I went and the people I met in those books were static; they’d never leave me. Even if I finished that book or series, I could always go back and read it again. That knowledge had always been comforting. 

In today’s case, since the school library was used as a study club, I wouldn’t have to worry about groups of friends breaking the peace. I could spend my time in solitude and quietness, and hopefully get something productive done. 

Or so I thought. 

Just as I sat down to begin working on my homework, a loud group of four girls walked in. They were talking and giggling as they sat down at a table not too far from me. 

Why does this always happen one way or another? I thought, silently begging them to just leave. 

No matter how hard I tried to ignore them, my attention kept drifting to where they were seated. I wasn’t intentionally trying to eavesdrop or anything, but they were just so… noticeable. Especially that girl in the center. 

She was quite pretty, to be honest. She had dark, wavy hair that fell to the middle of her back and was highlighted blonde at the ends. Her skin was smooth and tanned so lightly that you could hardly notice it. She sat perched at the edge of her chair lightly and elegantly, and her movements were gentle but precisely noticeable, like she was waving her hands through smoke. I found myself fixated on her eyes for a while, too; they were round and sparkled curiously even though there wasn’t much light directed towards her. They were a sable brown and reminded me of the chocolate my mother used to love.

Not to mention, that girl’s laugh was gorgeous. The way she laughed was enthusiastic but not too overwhelming, and it was genuine. But maybe genuine is how people normally are with their friends, so I suppose that part might not be too special. Nevertheless, she was strangely entrancing. 

I wish I knew her.

The thought popped into my mind and was gone as soon as it arrived. I immediately steeled myself though; it wasn’t worth it. Temporary happiness just wasn’t worth the pain that I knew would follow. 

I shut my laptop and inconspicuously left the scene. There was no point in staying. 

I breezed through the rest of the school day in a daze. All I could concentrate on was that girl from the library. Even though she had been only a few tables away from me, I knew that she was from a whole different world than I was. But there was something more about her that fascinated me. 

As I walked home, a memory from years ago buried deep in my mind started to resurface. There was someone I used to know in the past who had the same effect on me as she did. He was a boy named Alex, whom I had been “friends” with in elementary school. 

At the time, Alex was my everything. He was my closest friend and companion, and I trusted him a lot. There was nothing in the world that could possibly make me happier than spending time with him. Just being near him brought me comfort. 

Alex and I had been similar in many ways; we both shared a love of reading and knowledge, and our relationship was mutually beneficial, too. He loved hearing about the characters I read about and the things I learned, and we’d often trade information  about whatever was on our minds. 

But, fate harbored some sort of grudge towards me, and he was pulled out of my life by some external force I couldn’t bring myself to remember. 

Come to think of it, wasn’t there someone else I knew? Someone just like Alex and the library girl? I wondered to myself as the cold wind began to seep into my bones and I shivered. My fingers were freezing. Suddenly, the thought came to me. 

There was another girl, slightly older than I was at the time. I was in my last year of middle school, and she attended the high school nearby. Mia was her name. We’d often meet up at the community library in the rec center that connected the two schools. She’d help me with my homework if I needed assistance, and we kept each other company through the year. She was a wonderful companion and possessed the same entrancing qualities that I found in Alex and the sable-eyed girl. 

Yet she too disappeared from my life in due time. 

For a while, I thought I was cursed or doomed to spend my life in this endless cycle of heartbreak and despair. But after a while, I realized that I was the problem. It was my fault for making friends with the wrong people, but since it was too risky to try and find the right people, I resolved that it was better to not bother at all. 

Finally, I arrived home and let out a sigh of relief as I walked through the door. I kicked off my boots; they were slightly damp since it had rained in the morning. The house was much warmer than it was outside, and I smiled as I regained feeling in my fingers. 

“I’m home!”

No one was home yet, as usual, so I went up to my room to start my usual routine. The soft, orange glow of the sunset’s light streaming in my room was reassuring since it left the room with a warm and dreamy atmosphere. I took a shower and grabbed some snacks before heading into my walk-in closet. This was the most important part of my evening, and the highlight of my day. 

“Ah, there you all are. The house is so quiet when you aren’t around, you know? You should come to me first instead of waiting for me all the time. It’s almost as if you aren’t exhilarated to see me.” 

I closed the closet door behind me and switched on the light. It illuminated the small room with a slightly saturated yellow tinge. The whole house was silent, save for the clock ticking in my room. I could just barely hear it through the wall. 

“Which one of you wants to help me with the rest of my homework tonight? Unfortunately I didn’t get to finish it in the library today, so there’s some left over. It shouldn’t take too long, though.”

I walked over to the drawers in the back of my closet. There were six in total (two columns of three), but only the first four were full and labeled. The top left said “Mother,” and the top right said “Father.” In the second row, the left drawer said “Alex,” and the right drawer said “Mia.” The last row of drawers was unlabeled for now.

“Mia, why don’t you come along with me? I saw someone today who resembled you a lot. I might as well tell you about her.”

I bent down and gingerly opened Mia’s drawer. Inside was a notebook where I had kept track of my interactions with her, her interactions with other people, her family situation, her hobbies, her afterschool activities, her likes and dislikes, and other useful information about Mia’s life. I also had a few items of hers that sort of symbolized her in my mind; her purple hair ribbon and her butterfly brooch, for example. Those were essentials that she never left behind, and if they were important to her, they were important to me. 

“Come now, allow me to help you.”

I tenderly lifted her hand out of the drawer and led her to my homework desk. Her nails were still painted dark purple from all those years ago. Her hand was cold and lifeless now, but it was still her. Besides, who was I to be picky? As long as I could hold her hand again, that was enough for me. Her skin was porcelain smooth, just like the sable-eyed girl I had seen earlier today, but I only had her hand to hold. The rest of her was gone. 

I sat down at my desk and gently set her beside me. The sun had mostly set now, so I switched on my desk lamp and let it illuminate the room. 

“History is your favorite subject, right? Let’s start with that.”

Finally, some peace and quiet.