He jabbed her arm playfully.
”Come on, let’s have a go at the swings!”
She froze and turned to him, staring incredulously at him.
”Have you gone insane? What will people think? We’re not teenagers any more, you know.”
It was his turn to not quite believe what he heard.
”People might think we’re enjoying life. What’s wrong with that?”
She wanted to tell him that she felt the need to be taken seriously. There was no was she was taking the risk of having people call her retarded. She had already been told too many times that she did not understand things and that she was incapable. Not by him, but by her parents and teachers. Only he actually saw her capability. He was good for her. In the short time they had know each other, she had already gained in confidence, and now his mission seemed to be to teach to how to enjoy life. She had forgotten.
When she was five or six years old she had lost her spark. It was clearly visible in her photos. She knew when she had lost it, but she was not quite aware of how it had happened. No one had ever appreciated her before; no one had told her she was brilliant for just being alive. And now she was too afraid of being herself. There was no way she could loosen up. She was like a knot that was too tight to be untied.
Inspired by The Daily Post: Playful