Solitary Girl

I chose the farthest corner possible. Tucked away the best I could manage, I observed the hundreds of people within the food court. Friends grouped together, couples holding hands. Some young, some old. As I scanned the faces within the crowd, I began to contemplate about their lives.

A young girl in all black, save for her blue hair, walked past. A boy covered almost entirely in tattoos had his arm around her waist. I examined their faces, their motions. They quietly talked to one another and smiled. They minded their own business, seeming shy almost. I wondered if they were different from anyone else. Perhaps they were exactly the same, perhaps they were better and nobody ever knew.

I saw families, too. So many families. Grandparents with young children, women holding babies, men with toddlers clinging to their fingers. My stomach began to churn. I could feel the muscles in my throat tightening. This is why I don’t come here. So many people, yet I’ve never felt so alone.
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