Shocked, gasps, murmurs, whispers, surrounded me. I was confused, were people talking about me? Gossiping? Laughing at me? Pitying me?
Accept this time I was in my domain, a place where I was accepted, seen. I was in a place where I was a mentor, but also a place where I was considered an actual human being. Not a freak, an outsider, or someone to pity, even. I was a person, with feelings, though well hidden- feelings people, my family, saw. It was a place where I could be who I was, nothing to hide, and nothing I wanted to hide.
I was comfortable, known, loved, here.
I knew I should've just ignored the whispers, the glances- but instead I flashed back.
High school- foster care, viciously judged- misunderstood.
First it was the disturbing rumors that the janitor and I were involved, that haunted the halls. It cut me, deeply, that someone could image that- he was like a father- was my only constant.
He was the only one who understood my cling to my studies, my awkward, depressed- oppressed state.
The only one who saw me for who I was, not what I was.
Then someone found out I was in the foster system- and I think I would much rather have been pitied, then to have been called all the things they thought of me. Even though those thoughts, I consider, weak.
I was young, helpless, and hopeless- and that didn't help when they taunted me about my situation- that no one wanted me, that no one cared.
Then, the next year, I was just the freak. I was the girl who actually did the extra credit, the library girl- The creepy death girl. I was friendless, lonely, and weak.
I pushed my emotion down, biting my lower lip. I backed away from the body, softly, slowly explained to Mr. Bray what to do. "I need you to clean the bones, Mr. Bray. When you are done with that, please notify me."
He nodded, but looked up at me, his brows furrowed, surprised that my voice was- despite my effort to remain calm- shaky.
"Dr. Brennan?" He questioned, but I was already walking towards my office, eager to get away.
I ran into Angela on my way there, literally. I knocked the device straight out of her hands. It hit the floor with a floppy sound, which was disturbingly deafening.
Angela looked up at me flustered mostly, however she was also annoyed, once she saw who had bumped into her, so forcefully.
I looked down, and noticed that the electronic was rubberized, and had survived the impact, of gravity.
Then I turned around and practically sprinted to my office, closing the door behind me, and locking it.
I had forgotten what it was like to be petty, bothersome, and expendable.