Namjoo's P.O.V

Back when I was younger, there was a day when my mother took me out for dessert. We headed to a random ice cream parlour and I was ever so ready to order my sundae. But the moment we approached the counter, my mouth clamped up. My eyes had fallen upon the purple-red birthmark running the length of the cashier’s face. It made his bottom lip stick out and right at that moment, my appetite was gone.

More than ever, I wanted to go elsewhere, anywhere; just so I could get away from that man. He freaked me out and somehow I thought that since he did not look right, it meant that his brain wasn’t right either.

My mother caught me staring and immediately told me off; saying it was rude to stare at people. At her scolding, I simply cocked my head in confusion.

That guy wasn’t like everyone else.  He didn’t notice when I stared at him. Even if he did, it wouldn’t hurt him anyway. He wasn’t a real person.

He didn’t have feelings.

Ugly people don’t have feelings.

At least, that was what I thought back then.

But I knew better after what happened.

So when picture-taking day came, I wasn’t there. Instead, I was at my own sanctuary; the park. But it wasn’t just any random park. Like I said, it was my own sanctuary; my own park. No one knew about that park. Maybe people did know about it but with its state looking so run down, I wasn’t surprised that no one came to the park. I was the only one there and I probably would always be the only one there.

It was my first time skipping school. Umma would’ve understood me if I had explained to her why I didn’t want to go to school on that particular day; and basically any other day. But I would’ve had to go through the look of pity in her eyes. I would have to see her blink back her tears; something I rather not see.

 I sat on the swing that was still in a usable condition and glanced at my watch.

The girls are probably in the toilets now; fixing their hair and doing their makeup while criticising the way they look. They’d get all insecure, afraid that their photos wouldn’t turn out right.

I scoffed. Please.

People would probably notice my absence. But I doubted anyone would even question me. The teachers would probably be glad and they’d probably ‘forget’ to ask me for a note.

In all of those people’s minds, ugly people don’t have feelings.

Oh contrary to that, ugly people do have feelings.

They do notice if you stare at them.

And they’d definitely feel hurt.

Ugly people are real people.

Ugly people; like me.

A/N: I know, I know, it's a really short chapter but don't worry; the upcoming ones would be much longer! ^^ 

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