Tainted
It was just a chalkboard. Plain. Clear of any marks. Just a simple innocent chalkboard. It was set up so perfectly. Nothing should be so clean. With a hand itching for the broken chalk on the floor, slippered feet slowly pushed the body up so eyes could examine the board thoroughly.
Why should this inanimated object be so pure of stains and marks while she was not? What quality di it like so many others, have that she didn't? Lifting a trembling hand to the board, white chalk pressed against smooth surface. Slowly and with great pressure, the white chalk moved across the black board.
A mark, a stain, and yet the line itself was perfect in its straightness. With gritted teeth she hastily made another mark, crossing the first. Then, determined, she made another, swerving it through the first two. It should be scrambled. That the way life is. Everyone is marked, everyone is stained, but as she continued working her way down the length of the board, she realized, not everyone was worthless. With a final sounding snap, a piece of white chalk blew, causing the stub of her fingertips to collide with the board.
A frown marred her face as she studied her now white powdery hand. She blinked once. Twice. Slowly, she pulled her hand away from the board and took a step back. The board was no longer perfect. It no longer glistened in the afternoon light, mocking her of her imperfection.
How does it feel?
She found herself mentally asking the unresponsive board.
You're a mess. Everyone can see now that you are not perfect.
A hand reached out for a dusty board eraser.
Even if you tried...
She ran it down before her.
The marks are still visible.
The eraser fell to the floor.
"It never goes away." She breathed shakily. The door slid opened and a slight gasp could be heard. Eyes drop to the floor as she awaits a reaction. But there is none. Only silence. Must have been someone she didn't know. She didn't need to look around to know a metaphorical tornado had swept through the room. She should clean up the mess before seriously getting in trouble.
Leaning down to pick up the eraser as a start, a hand placed itself on her shoulder, making her freeze on the spot.
"Machi..." The soft word floated to her ears causing her chest to constrict. Lifting herself back up, she turned to face the visitor. Concerned eyes washed over her intently, searching for something; she had no clue what.
"I'm sorry about the mess." She found herself mumbling, tearing her eyes away from his. "I'll clean it up." Pulling away from his comforting hand, she began to do just that because no matter how messed up she was; he was the one person she did not want to taint.