Rebirth

She had always been alone. Growing up with her parents didn’t make her less lonely. Her parents didn’t seem to notice her; they strolled along here and there, partying, working, and travelling. On Christmas Eve they gave her presents and for her birthdays she got a load of parcels wrapped by good smelling and elegant shop assistants.

They were her parents, they cared for her, but they didn’t need her.

In school it was the same. Other pupils didn’t tease her, she was left alone. She was invisible for others. Teachers were amazed when they returned her exams, they looked at her wondering if she was a new pupil or had they seen her before.

She had no friends to be with after school, so she returned to her empty home, took a book and started to read till it was time to go to bed. If she got hungry, she went silently to the kitchen, opened the fridge and ate what she found. This didn’t happen often, because she didn’t know what hunger was. She had no needs, no desires.

After graduating she moved to her own flat and got a job. Living on her own didn’t make her visible, and her life went on the same way it had used to go. She seemed to melt into shadows.

Her parents died, but she didn’t miss them. She didn’t long for their presents, brightly wrapped parcels. She sold their house, her childhood home, but kept the books that had belonged to them.

She grew old, and one day she died. She was found, when neighbours complained about the smell coming from her flat. She lay in her bed, still holding a book in her hands. It was a book about rebirth. She had always been peculiar, the neighbours told to the police. No wonder, reading such books.