Guilt by Leen Elle Page B

just accepting that things were so because she was told they were so, or that she should shield her eyes from tragedy because it would cause a dark spot in her pretty little picture of life. Damn it, she was her own person. She could draw her own conclusions.
    Of course, fifteen years of restricted education and manipulated personality development didn't change overnight. Claire found that executing her new view towards life was easier said than done, and being surrounded by people who droned through life each day in the same manner that she had done before her awakening turned her tenacity into struggle.
    Her first course of action on her road to a new and improved sense of self was to be more outgoing with people. No more of this inability to relate only to one person at a time. Her best friend, Laura, had been a security blanket up until this point. Now that she was gone Claire realized that the reason she didn't relate to people was because she was afraid of them. She had been a recluse out of fear of finding out other peoples' opinion of her.
    She forced herself to initiate conversations with her classmates, but the ones who had tried to converse with her earlier in the year viewed her intentions suspiciously, as though she had an ulterior motive for talking to them now. The people she'd never really spoken to before seemed confused by the sudden, albeit amiable, exchange. Corry remained the only person she could hold a casual and comfortable conversation with. He seemed to think the same of her, too, because he began to make a habit of walking with her to her last period after art class. It was enough that she opened up to Corry, so she gave up her attempts at chatting with others.
    The next decision she made in an effort to attain worldliness was her art. She tried to open her imagination up to a broader scope, but the outcomes were gloomy and depressing depictions that didn't really reflect her attitude. She felt dissatisfied with her work, and every project in which Corry's genius shined made her more and more frustrated with herself.
    She turned to her clothing, determined that her style should reflect her originality. The day that she spent sporting a long rayon skirt and a retro batik fabric tunic that she borrowed from the back of her mom's closet felt awkward for her. Even Corry, who never seemed to give notice to Claire's appearance before, couldn't keep the puzzled look from showing on his face upon seeing her. She slipped back into her usual jeans and simple sweater the next day. Maybe the clothing thing was too big a step so early into her 'self-transformation'.
    Sitting in art class a week later, still unable to find joy in her work while trying to be worldly, Claire watched Corry and the Freak work with intensity on their own projects. That's when she had another revelation. She realized that her attempts for self-improvement affected the same outward appearance as the Freak's own singular personality (other than the fact that she didn't draw all over herself).
    She studied him a little closer. He tried so hard to be different, and he was labeled. Was that what it was like to be a nonconformist? You became an outcast? Claire didn't want that. She'd rather crawl back into her state of obscurity. She told herself that she'd wait to until she left Brickerton to find herself if she had to. Then she'd have a clean canvas on which to paint her individuality.
    And so, after weeks of unsuccessful experimentation, she sank back into her old routines and habits. The only thing she didn't let slip were her conversations with Corry. The time of day that she felt the most comfortable and content with her high school life was during her walk from art class to algebra. She didn't know why Corry had taken up the inclination of walking with her, but she enjoyed his company.
    Whenever they chatted during art class, the Freak picked up on their amity and teased them about being 'boyfriend and girlfriend'. Claire just brushed