The Gum Diaries 1- False Reflection
Gum Chewed- Extra Bubble, Orbit Sweet Mint
I have a memory of sitting in a school classroom. I’m reading something, but if I focus too hard on what it was, I feel like an idiot. There’s no one else there, the only sound being that of the wind against the windows. Sometimes, I’d turn to look over at those windows, and see the sunset. It’s still so vivid. The sun moving around the shapes of the trees and the houses and the buildings to be seen, reaching for the horizon. The sky was a pretty gradient of pink, red, and orange, and I always remember that. It’s a memory clearer than any of my birthdays, or declarations promising that I’d change and be better. I still think about that sunset.
I sat there, at my desk, until a message appeared on my phone, telling me my mother was there to pick me up.
I was in the hallways. The sounds of people were all gone, everyone packed up on a bus hours ago, the remaining staff in their offices or working to keep their sections of the school clean. The janitor usually finished cleaning the halls I would be walking through first. I think he must have been cleaning the opposite side of the school then. When I think about that now, it makes me feel ill. When I got to the front, I saw the glass doors of the library. Inside the lights were still on, and the woman with coke-cap thick glasses was sorting books at the front desk, loading them carefully onto a multi-shelf cart. I still don't know the name for those things. She was just sorting, moving, sorting, moving. She had no clue I was watching her. No clue I was invading that privacy curtain we use around our minds to let us feel at ease.
If she never noticed me, did that mean I didn’t exist? People never seemed to notice me. I was always able to sneak up on people without even meaning to. When I was even younger, I could watch my mom work for so long, her not having a single clue. When I thought like that, I felt really lonely. At that moment, I remember debating if I should open the door, and make myself visible, make myself feel better. I left instead. I never told her about that.