"FREAKY FREYA" in THE REALITY SOAP: AFTER DAD'S FUNERAL

I've never seen him like that before. He's always been so brave, so strong.

That day, he was so different. The big, strong police officer couldn't stop crying. His eyes were red. They were trying to console him as he looked at me, saying it over and over:

"That's not her. She's always been such a good girl. That's not my baby. She's not my daughter."

That hurt. A lot more painful than the words they said to me in school:

"Freaky Freya!"

"Fatso!"

"Ugly girl, you make us sick. Why don't you just die?!"

And what have I done wrong to them? Nothing. I just kept to myself. I'd tried to stay away from them. They didn't have to like me. They never had to.

"Why, Freya?" The hysterically crying old man in uniform now looked at me with his wet, pleading eyes. "Why did you do that?"

I couldn't believe my ears. I rose to my feet, knocking the chair over behind me. Lieutenant Edwards put a gentle grip on my shoulder.

"Easy, Freya..."

"Well, what do you think, Dad?!" I shouted. "You told me to ignore them. Well, it didn't work! They wouldn't shut up! They should've left me alone." I was crying now. "I'm sorry I took your gun, Daddy. I had to. All I wanted was to be left alone. I just wanted to shut them up. WAS IT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!"

-Theme/topic: anger/wrath/rage

R.

(Jakarta, July 2, 2014 - @The Couchsurfing Writers' Club, from 8:00 - 11:00 pm @Anomali Cafe, Setiabudi One)