61 Talented Me! 31

Avina waited just a few seconds staring at her phone just in case someone else called. When she made sure that there were no more incoming calls, she, relieved, placed the phone down and headed back to Daisy.

"So! What's the story!" Daisy asked excitedly. Now that Wilona wasn't bothered by the phone call, she can finally ask. No one knows how she terribly wished to know what happened.

"It all started-"

*ring ring*

…Who was this terrible annoyance that keeps interrupting her!?

"What!?" Avina picked up the phone and shouted.

"Hello. Would you be interested in Glam Glitz Glamor Makeup? We have a variety-"

At the sound of the automatic telemarketer voice, she hung up. Going to her contacts, she immediately blocked the number.

"Telemarketer… It was a telemarketer…" Avina said in defeat. Daisy stifled a laugh before bursting into tears. Avina stared blankly before laughing as well.

"Ok, now I'll tell you what happened to me." Avina smiled. Avina placed 5025 in her lap and began her pitiful stories of the beautiful, kind, lovely, and adorable princess versus the conniving, scheming, black-hearted, malicious witch.

Her storytelling skills rivaled that of famous writers accentuated with different voices and gestures. Her expression was lively changing at the drop of a hat conveying every emotion felt. No one could resist the temptation of being lured into her voice. The pain, the torture, the never-ending pit of sadness - the emotions ladled thickly in her story left those who listened desperately to seek out light.

"And then?" Daisy whispered. "No prince?"

Avina snapped out of her character and giggled. "Not every princess needs a prince. She will get out of this with her brains and wits!"

"I never realized that so many things happened to you," Daisy mumbled. "If I knew, I would have helped you. You- don't hide anymore. Now, you got us."

At her words, a soft river of warmth rushed in like tides. It warmed her spirit making her feel bliss. It may be empty words, it may just be an at-the-moment-promise, but Avina appreciated the sentiment.

"Let's stop this sad story," Avina ended the topic. It was a night of fun, not sadness!

With that, their conversation switched. From one to another, they shared their interests, fun stories, different lives. 5025 sat in the comfort of Avina's lap taking pleasure in the peaceful night.

Avina did not know when, but the moment she opened her eyes, morning had come. The night before, Daisy and she explored the realm of friendship. At some point, they fell asleep, and now, it was morning.

Her small window let in a clear stream of sunshine. She helped herself up while yawning. The night was so long and they chatted even longer. Avina wasn't sure if they even got a decent amount of sleep.

"Wake up, Daisy," Avina poked around with her hands before shaking Daisy. "It's morning. We gotta get up."

Daisy hummed before flipping herself over. She grabbed the blanket and pulled it toward herself. Avina felt the cold wind touching her skin and shivered. She reached out towards the escapee blanket and pulled it off of Daisy.

Daisy muttered incomprehensibly and then proceeded to say, "5 more minutes, Mom."

Avina gapped at the scene and frowned. Stretching her legs, she kicked Daisy off the bed. "Let the sunrise clear your vision and tell me again if I'm your mom or not!"

The fall was barely a foot high so it didn't hurt, but it immediately woke up Daisy. Struggling to open her eyes, she muttered, "What happened?"

Daisy scratched her bird nest hair and stretched up and down. She smacked her lips a few times and yawned. Avina had to pull her throughout the house, into the bathroom to clean up, into her room to dress up, and finally, into the kitchen to eat.

As usual, the rest of the family was not there. On the table were 3 notes and a couple of bills, except this time, there were 3 more.

Picking up the note, her dad, whom she did not get the chance to introduce yesterday, had given her extra money for her friends.

Neatly folding the notes and money, she placed them in her purse. Daisy waved towards her from the front door, and the two headed for school.

The morning was no different than other mornings for there was the sun. Lunch was no different from other lunches for there was food. But despite her feeling this, there was this small feeling that something was, in fact, different.

Avina noticed midday that the eyes which usually peered at her every movement decreased. It wasn't until her class was called to the gym that she knew why.

As classic as it was in her world, there was a replica in this one. The usual anti-bullying campaign started with an upbeat speech but slowly digressed to be more serious. Statistics were pulled up as well as the consequences of bullying. Every class at different times had to attend, and it seemed to have worked.

Avina no longer felt the creeping tingling feeling on her forearms from the stares. She no longer was scared to accidentally meet the eyes of others and felt comfortable enough to not ignore them.

When the class returned, the teacher rapped the table drawing their attention. Making sure all eyes were on him, he began his own anti-bullying speech. The longer it lasted, the more her gut feeling told her that something was going to be said about her. And she was right.

"...and I wanted to discuss the rumors and bullying surrounding Wilona," he finally said. Pointing towards her, he gestured for her to walk to the front of the class.

"Now, as an honorable school, we teachers try our best to provide the best learning environment for our students. That includes stopping bullying and false allegations. There are a few things we must discuss, and I hope you don't mind Wilona, but will you help me?" He turned around to Wilona.

How could she refuse? She was already at the front of the classroom. Nodding at the teacher, he returned to speak to the class.

"Now, does anyone know any rumors about Wilona? Or the recent bullying cases she experienced?"

No one was willing to speak up. At the height of the moment, they did not mind doing anything, but now, when the teacher was asking, and in front of their peers, they held guilt. Against the victim, herself, standing in the front of the room, they were scared. It was easy to follow, but hard to divert.

"Anyone?" he asked again. "No one? Then, fine. I'll answer."

Placing his hand on her shoulder, he pulled her closer and whispered in her ear. "This may be a little uncomfortable, but I do have the approval of your family. If you feel it is too much, please tell me and I will stop."

Returning to the class, he loudly said, "This is Wilona. She is a girl, who, as the rumors suggest, struggles in her daily life. However, that does not mean you have the right to vilify her with names such as "beggar" or "poor". It does not mean you can gang up against her and publicly humiliate her. It does not mean that she does not deserve the same respect that you would be shown.

I know none of you are speaking up, not because you had nothing to do with it, but because you are filled with guilt. I understand that because you should be. You should feel guilty for ostracizing your own classmate. You should feel guilty for causing her harm whether physically or mentally.

Whether you joined because you were influenced by others or started it, it does not matter, you are all guilty in this act. For the past week, I have carefully monitored your interactions and none of you have stepped forward to help Wilona. The few people that did, are still, and will continue to help her and those are her friends.

I will not force you to apologize because apologies are sincere and not forced. But I do ask you, to listen to your guilt, to emphasize with Wilona, and apologize. Talk to her, listen to her, and become closer to her. You will realize that rumors are words of the mouth and not of the heart."

Ending his speech, he turned to look at Wilona. He was about to ask if she had any other words to say, but was instead stunned to find her silently sobbing.

Beads of tears fell from her eyes like light rain on a spring day. They dropped softly and slowly, not rushing. She did not scrunch her face in pain or agony but solace. No cry emitted from her mouth, no sound was made, but in everyone's mind, it was a loud screech of eustress. It was a cry of thankfulness, a cry of relief, a cry for safety.