Exaggerating that is, I do have no friends, but its not my fault.
It all started even before I was born. My parents always wanted to have children, they had been trying for two years when suddenly my mother looked in the mirror and decided she hated herself.
Every morning she woke up, looked at the mirror and hated what she saw for no reason at all. My dad left her shortly afterwards. She wasn't suicidal or depressive. She only hated herself when she looked in the mirror; he only hated her when he looked at her.
A few months later she found out she didn't hate herself anymore. She hated me.
When I was born it didn't even take a day for my mother to abandon me. She ran away to find my father and just left me there. For her it was a relief to have this burden taken out of her.
The doctor didn't like me either. He didn't say anything, obviously, but I could tell. They all hated me. The nurse dreaded the time she had to feed me at the hospital. The pediatrician hated to check on my vitals. The driver hated having to take me to the orphanage, and there they hated me even more.
The hate wasn't always completely clear. Some people go up to my face and tell me so. Others just give me side glances while they silently judged. The thing is: sometimes people just look at a person and decide they don't like them not even knowing why. That happened to me everytime.
Some people faked liking me for the sake of politeness and that's the only reason I'm still alive, but I could always see the hate inside their eyes.
Until I couldn't.
I was walking down a street when it happened. I could barely see it. Her face was covered with a hoodie that hid her expression, but there was something different about her.
They were small things: a small smile, slightly less wrinkled eyebrows, her posture, but it were the eyes that gave it away. Her eyes weren't full of hate like the many others.
They seemed like normal eyes, very dark, making the feeling behind them even clearer, like seeing a spark of light in complete darkness. As she looked at me her eyes still weren't filled with hate...
...and then they were gone.
She walked past me. Why would she even stop. Why would she even notice me? I'm just a normal person to her.
But that was enough for me.