Thief

Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. So goes the saying.  I believe what other know-it-alls believe in, happiness lies in the self and not on others.  By that, you do not let others judge you, you ignore their presumptions, you do not bend to their will, they do not dictate who you should or ought to become. The key to bliss is to appreciate the good in what others say and forget about the bad stuff. So what if they think you're not as beautiful as you think you are? So what if they think you're cheap? So what if they think you're a loser? Hard as you try though, you cannot block everything out.  You can only be deaf, blind and downright insensitive just long enough before you break down.  You can never be that strong, that numb, just because like all of us you're human.  You feel.  You hurt. You break down.

Last week, I was informed about an incident of stealing in one of the classrooms.  A student lost 2,700 in cash, the alleged thief: a female classmate.Many of them believe this certain "classmate" was also involved in several other similar incidences in the past.  Without concrete, definitive evidence, her classmates who strongly believe she was the culprit condemned her, the air tasting stale and thick as they sold her out, ostracizing her like a leper, all forms of association and friendship thrown out of the window.

  I vaguely remember when one of our classmates was also stealing from others. It was sacrilegious,  the worst form of betrayal in a closely knit us-against-the-world family.  The illusion of security was shattered and suddenly everybody kept looking over their shoulders making sure he never leaves anything valuable while she was around.  Like the girl now, she was scorned, branded for life a thief.  However, she was not someone you could easily hate. She was nice, sweet and friendly with an unassuming personality and a somewhat adorable childishness. She started stealing when things got so bad she got desperate.  I felt sorry for her then.  I feel sorry for this girl now, too.  I do not condemn these people but I certainly condemn their actions.  I wonder, how can you survive for the next 2 semesters in an environment where every quick glance at you becomes meaningful, when every body thinks you're just waiting to strike again.  Can the bridges you burnt during the drama ever be fixed? Can trust be regained?

Ever since, I will allow people to call me and brand me anything they want to.  Call me anything you want, just don't call me a thief. A "thief" is a reputation that takes a long time to be shaken off.  It's something that you can just learn to adjust to but not completely erase.  It's something that you can ignore only for so long before the pain sets in.  You feel.  You hurt.  You breakdown