I, The Paper Tiger

A short story about complicated feelings from first person POV.

I didn't care for this person at first.

We started the year as strangers sharing a desk, according a random seating assignment. They meant nothing to me. I knew nothing about them. We continued as strangers as we no longer sat next to each other. I don't know when it happened.

I realized that this person was smart. A smart-alek? Definitely. But also pure genius. This person knew how to suck up and cute their way out of trouble. I've never heard them swear -- actually, I tried not to hear this person at all. My friend and I talked about this person and that's when I realized that everyone felt the same way about them. We all loved this person, or at the very least, had some warm feelings towards them. Beautiful, stylish, smart, talented, genius, friendly... need I go on?

The next year passed and we again went to the same school. I signed up for my classes, hoping, just hoping, that this person would be in the same class as me. It never happened, not that year.

The next year came along and I sometimes passed them in the hall, my stomach feeling sick with feelings that I hope I could crush down and get rid of. I hated it. That's when I started to hate this person. What kind of sick individual could manipulate people without lifting a finger? Just by existing? This person was perfect: too perfect. We shared a class in our last semester and I treated this person as I would any other: my anxiety towards people caused me to stay silent and avoid eye contact, so likewise, I never said a word or glanced in their direction.

Our last year in our school and we shared at least one class for the entire year. My hatred grew. Stares turned to glares that they never would have noticed because they probably did not even put me in their eyes. I nearly killed myself because I was suffering to maintain such great academic standing. This person never lost a wink of sleep.

It came easy to them. They never had dark circles or bad skin or hair. I lost it. When this person came near, I turned the other way. Avoided any accidental touches or bumps despite my extreme clumsiness. This person did a presentation and I couldn't help but quietly laugh at my table, trying to pressure a mistake from them by staring intently. Isn't this bullying? Isn't this wrong?

I was jealous. I worked hard and was still stupid. I couldn't understand people when they spoke to me. I couldn't make the right facial expression or speak loud enough. I was never perfect. I was ugly, fat, stupid, untalented, dirty. The only gift I had was music, but that was because I trained for years before anyone even thought of it. My seniors were still better than me. Anyone would be better than me.

I would die if I was confronted. This person is my idol. I hate them. I want to be better. Their existence makes me doubt myself to death. I never feel adequate. Despite my rudeness, this person remains perfect as usual. A star. A brilliant genius whose ground is only soiled by my presence, yet nonetheless unaffected. I should be cool and collected, but I'm bitter and irritated. I'm not tough.

I, the paper tiger, am not tough.

Reviews

[Jayme]

I really related to this story. Never feeling like I am good enough in any aspect of my life. But we must remember that no one is perfect. Not even out idols and at the end of the day we are all just doing the best we know how.
Great work :)

[Kate]

This story brings a lot of emotions. This just shows how humanity can become jealous of the "little" things so quickly. Overall, this was a well thought-out story that kept my attention throughout. Well done.