Afraid To Let Her Mask Slip

Trust was absent in her home, so she never fully could be a child. Since she had no idea how deprived she was, it was not an issue. Her mask was affixed firmly by the time she met the outsiders. “The only non-smiling non-laughing kindergartener” Mrs. G ever taught. And Mrs. G. had taught kindergarteners for twenty-seven years. “Why don’t you trust anyone?” a girlfriend screamed at her. They were in third grade, and she refused to eat her friend’s food. Last friend for a long time, for nonchalant covering fear looks like arrogance. She was okay without them, she had books, and her animals. They would never betray her or share the abuse she had deserved. She never joined the outsiders’ frolics, adventures or shared in their mirth. She was afraid if she ever let her mask slip, they would learn the truth. If they thought she was demented and deformed now, can you imagine…. How much stranger she would be the instant they realized her parents hated her? She almost let her guard down last week. But her strategy was in place now. If he came by, she would make herself scarce. He had a way of listening that frightened her. As if he cared, and wanted to know her. As if she was a real person.