Brace yourselves! It's story time.
I am a huge nerd and always have been. I preferred books to people growing up because children are mean. I read so much that whichever grown up in my family had possession of me at the time would have to take away my books and lock me outside. Just so I would play. I had friends, but they always found me to be quirky and strange, and they picked on me (not cruelly, mind you). I could not quite fit in with them, but I was loyal. And I did homework for cash.
There is one time in particular that I can look back on and wonder how they ever put up with my eccentricities at all. When I was in the fifth grade, our class was a part of a parade. We were supposed to dress up as endangered creatures. I showed up dressed as a bookworm. Even the teachers were momentarily caught off guard. I was completely oblivious as to why no one "got" my costume. After we were adults, one of my friends recalled that incident and teased me for it. At first, I did not get it because hardcore readers seem to be a rarity. Then it occurred to me - all of these other children were dressed as elephants, lions, and other beloved creatures, and I showed up with high pigtails on either side of my head and thick, black glasses. My friend and I both agreed that the only thing that kept me from getting beat up was my size (I'm very short) and my homework business.
As you may be able to tell, my reality was quite different from everyone else's because I thought deep down that the "real world" was a terrible practical joke. Perhaps I still do. When the world sucks so bad that I just want to scream, I know that I can pick up a book and have it instantly transport me away from my troubles. So as long as I'm still alive, there will be one bookworm left in the world.
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