"You haven't done anything wrong, you haven't done anything wrong" I mutter to myself. I see an old lady glare at me when she thought I had looked away.
Though, to be truthful, I haven't done anything wrong. All I was doing was going down the road to get some groceries. And maybe a cake. It's Josh's birthday, and I don't want it to go unnoticed . . . Again. He's turning seven, and, I know it's not a big thing, but why not? I mean, it's not like we're going to live long enough to regret it. Regret spending two weeks food money on a cake that'll last three days... Okay, bad idea. Maybe next year.
I walk across the road, nearly getting hit by a car. Twice.
I know they do it on purpose. They don't like, me. They want me to be a friend, to join the friends.
To join them.
I got to the line outside the store, and internally winced. This was always the hardest bit: The waiting. I see Ella, from down the road in the line. She glances at me, no recognition, except for that stupid I'm-a-friend-and-you're-a-human-I'm-better-than-you look, which I'm getting far too often.
We used to be best friends.
But this isn't the worst. Last week, I saw my grandpa in the coffee shop where I work. He ignored me, just ordering the black coffee I knew he would.
I used to be his little girl. Now I'm just a thing he looks at with disgust.
They do it on purpose. They know that it'll upset me most by just ignoring me. Pretending I don't exist. Just like they used to.
Just like my 'friend' won't.
Of course, they do know me. They were there, for every meeting. Every laugh. Every memory.
Then she talks. Like she always does when I feel weak. When I want to give in. When I want to be someone else.
"You could just give in, you know. I'm your friend your very own friend. I'm you, just better. Everyone will like you, and as for Josh, well... The poor kid won't know the difference. After all, how much do you remember from when you were seven?" I can almost see the grin forming on her face.
But she said the wrong things. I'm doing this for Josh. Everything is for Josh. If not for him, I would have given up years ago. Sometimes I resent him for it, but, it was their last wish. My parents, who died seven years ago. Well, they died in my eyes, anyway.
My argument against myself stops abruptly, when I look up, and see someone. Or, some
They're my parents.
"Mum, Dad!" I sob, as I run up and hug them.
But they don't hug me back.
Dad shoves me away? Mum stands stiff, still.
"But Mummy" I cry desperately "I'm your daughter!"
Dad spits on me.
They don't know me.
They don't love me.
I run across the busy, high street road, dodging the cars that try to hit me.
I don't care about the food. If they wanted me to look after Josh, and feed him, they shouldn't have pushed me away.
I know it's not them, they're both just some stupid friends. But it hurts so much.
I run into the stairwell, covering my face to stop the tears flowing. I live on the second to the top floor. No one wants to be near me, so I have to be high, but well... We can't have a human getting the penthouse.
Not that anyone lives there anyway.
I'm on the 18th floor when I hear the screaming