Orphaned Fool

Hera cupped her cheeks as Ms. Reyes, their Creative Fiction teacher, drowned them with the ingredients for a perfect story. They’ve been discussing it for days but, aside from feeling bored and stupid, she learned nothing. She understood a pinch of what she was saying, though; however, more than that was just wishful thinking.

Yawning, Hera directed her gaze outside the window. With her peripheral vision, she was aware Ms. Reyes wouldn’t be able to notice her spacing out. After all, she was a small woman, even by the standard of a twelfth-grade student. This and the fact that most of her classmates were sitting in front of her, vacating the four chairs beside her, concealed her from her teacher’s range of vision.

Assured she’d never be reprimanded, she poured all her attention to the field just outside their room. She brushed the strands of her hair off her face to have a good look at the Narra Tree sitting in the center, its branches dancing with the wind, its leaves fluttering in the air. Students were playing around it, ascending on the wooden staircases twisting on its trunk, leading up to a small house engineered in its branches.

She put her hands on the window’s frame, her lips curving sadly. She wondered how these kids lived. Perhaps, they’ve been brought by a wonderful parent who supported them whole throughout. That was why they were able to smile like that. Though she knew how to force herself in a smile, she wanted to be visited by the genuine urge to curve her lips, to feel a little bit enthusiastic.

But that very feeling had been rubbed off of her when she resided in the orphanage. Sure, the nuns and volunteers did their best to offer them affection. However, to Hera, it was nothing but a foolish attempt to make them feel loved once more. It wasn’t at all genuine. They could just have that love for themselves. She didn’t need it anyway.

Brushing her hair back to her face, she sat straight, sighing.

Just as she thought, Ms. Reyes hadn’t noticed her at all. She was still rumbling in front, and her voice was growing irksome in Hera’s ears. If she could just use silencing headphones, then she wouldn’t have to bear listening to her high-pitched voice.

While tapping her feet, she remembered Ms. Tere’s warning a little earlier. She thought it was odd for her to be summoned so early just for a simple brawl that didn’t even grow to be a physical one. But like always, she never backed out. She faced Ms. Tere with her face still covered with her hair.

Ms. Tere’s office was located at the back of the Dining Area. It was a lone, square-shaped building with a flat roof and glasses for a window. Ms. Tere was sitting behind her usual desk filled with neatly-placed files, piling up perfectly as though they were meant to be in there. She was wearing her usual robe and a blue veil, which to Hera would never be compatible.

If she had something to cover up, it would be her face, not her hair.

Once she was inside, Hera had to wrap her hands around her waist, rubbing it, to transfer some heat to her body. She didn’t know if Ms. Tere was just numb to not shiver with the coldness in the atmosphere or Hera’s just too sensitive. Either way, the ambiance of the room wasn’t up to her liking.

Apparently, Ms. Tere hadn’t noticed her. She was still reading her notes, her half-moon spectacle sliding through her small nose, but it had threads on its bridge that prevented it from falling.

Hera wanted to clear her throat to announce her presence, but she wanted to be selfish with her voice. So, she waited, folding her arms across her chest while looking around without tilting her head. Aside from the shelf filled with books and the flat-screen TV hanging on the wall with lime-orange paint, there was no interesting object whatsoever that made her feel she belonged in there.

’She must really like orange to have the whole of this Villa painted with it,’ thought Hera, nodding.

She noted the frames standing in rows above the shelf. The picture wasn’t clear, but she caught some toga, so she expected it was a graduation photo. A cold sensation that had nothing to do with the air-conditioning swirled in the pit of her stomach. She imagined herself wearing one of those. She’s not picky with colors, but she’d really appreciate it to be purple.

“You’re already here, I see,” said a deep voice. It was then that Hera noticed Ms. Tere. She was already staring at her, her eyeglasses lying flat on the table.

Standing straight, she put her hands at her back, pursing her lips.

Ms. Tere’s protruding brown eyes examined Hera. She looked younger with her bony cheeks and round face despite her being about forty years old. “Do you want to graduate?” She relaxed her right hand on one of the files, her left hand on her chin, scratching it.

Hera merely nodded, her eyes flashing back at Ms. Tere’s graduation photo. ‘It goes without saying, Old Hag! The only problem is, it’s easier said than done!’ As usual, she allowed her mind to supply the thought she couldn’t put into words.

“Then study hard, A-15. We’ve received thousands of complaints about your performance, and I don’t think merely giving special projects will allow you to graduate.”

The stabbing pain in her stomach intensified her desire to smash Ms. Tere’s face, but she remained from where she was, her lips already pale with the force of her bite. There was just something about the way they referred to her that made it hard to control herself. She had a name and naming her yet again seemed to be an insult to her actual identity.

“Are you okay?” Ms. Tere’s brows furrowed. “Did I offend you?”

Shaking her head, Hera cleared her throat.

“I know it’s hard to hear this, but you should really do your best if you want to graduate. Aim to get higher marks than zero in your tests. Listen to your teachers and ask if you’re unable to comprehend the lesson.”

Again, Hera was made to wonder how Ms. Tere lived. She must have had a pompous life being able to say those words as though it was a cakewalk. She might have never experienced a terrible past that discouraged her from ever listening to other people.

After their one-sided talk, she pretended to have never been summoned in the office and went to her school. Like the other orphans, she attended Leyte National High School, a public institution she never once loved. In fact, where there were so many people was where her mind started to be in chaos, wondering how it would feel like to have their life, their body.

If she would be a character in a story, she wanted to have a superpower where she could steal someone’s body and experience their life. It would be wonderful if she’d be able to possess someone who had a close relationship with their parents. More than anything, having to embrace a mother or a father was something she wanted to experience, to see if it would still feel warm as before.

“Ms. Brown! Ms. Brown! Are you listening?”

The high-pitched voice of their teacher awakened her. She hadn’t realized she fell asleep. It wasn’t in her thought. She just wanted to close her eyes earlier. Well anyway, the damage was already done. Now thanks to it, she had everyone’s attention.

With a yawn, she sat straight. She noticed at once the eyes that were looking at her intently. There was bemusement in their surface that contorted her brows.

‘Shoot!’ she thought the moment she felt the wind brushed on her exposed cheeks. She immediately covered her face with her hair, trying to be indifferent with the rapid thump of her heart. ‘I swear! If you don’t look away, I’ll snatch that freaking eyes of yours!’

“I am talking to you, Ms. Brown. Please stand.” Ms. Reyes still looked nice even though her face was crumpled, her ears burning red. She had her hair tied in a bun, so it was easy for Hera to notice the rashes on her neck.

Hera needed no telling twice. She was already on her feet. Her fists were clenched as her classmates continued to gape at her. Some even had the audacity to whisper something in her seatmate. Though she didn’t hear it, she could only guess that it had something to do with the horizontal scar from her right cheek up to her left forehead.

“Please listen when I’m discussing our lesson, because it’s for you, Ms. Brown. I want you to learn as much as you can before you face the reality, hmm? Can’t you do that?”

‘I’ve already seen the reality with my own eyes, You High-pitched Bitch! There’s no need for you to tell me that!’

“Can you please answer? You’re being disrespectful right now!”

One of her classmates in front raised her hand. “Excuse me, Ma’am?”

“Yes, Ms. Hail?” She directed her eyes to the girl, the warmth returning to it.

The girl had black, wavy hair and a face quite alike to a mannequin. She was so pale, her skin filled with brown patches that made her resemble a dalmatian, complementing the crisscrossing pattern of her maroon skirt and white shirt.

“I don’t think she can answer you. She’s mute.”

“Oh! I’m sorry to hear that!”

Hera’s ears perked at the pity lurking in Ms. Reyes’ voice. She never wanted to hear any of it. She needed no one to pity her. It’s absurd to have received their mercy when they have no idea what her life once was. But, no matter how chaotic her mind had become, it was always easy for her to keep her mouth shut. She just let them be. But she gave the girl one more glimpse and remembered that she’s the same girl who’s always on top of the class. They’ve always been classmates, but no interaction occurred from between them, or at least she always evade such circumstances to occur.

Never did Hera feel jealousy with her intelligence because, no matter how genius she might look, she had never been transferred to the higher section. And that was saying something.

“You may sit, Ms. Brown. Please listen now, okay?”

Nodding, she sat back down, her lips shaking as she glared at the girl. ‘Mute, huh!’ She sighed, forcing herself to look at Ms. Reyes who’s already rumbling once again with her boring lesson.