No one would ever call me the nicest villager, for sure. I couldn't care less at what they thought of me.
But maybe that's why I was so unfriendly.
But the girl? She used a different word. She used the word misunderstood.
"I think you're misunderstood," she had said.
And you know what I did?
I said this:
"Why in the world would I care what you think of me?"
She didn't even flinch at my sudden shout. She didn't move. She just said, "Well, the others don't understand you. But you know what? I do. I understand you."
And I laughed.
That's right, I laughed.
I took her kind gesture and I threw it back in her face.
And I never stopped thinking about that. Ever. Sometimes I scream about it. How she went out of her way to show her respect for me, unlike any of the other animals, and I threw it away.
How disgusting could I be.
No, that wasn't a question.
Because I know how disgusting I can be.
It's sad, really.
Yet she stayed undaunted. One time she looked me straight in the eye and said, "I don't know why you act like this. You don't have to, Rizzo. You don't have to be this way."
But she said it calmly.
Quietly.
So I ignored her.
I walked away.
Eventually, she did too.