Who

WHO1

By: Madison Hatter2

Who.3

How many people took this word for granted? How many people stopped to think about, and to marvel at their sense of identity?4

Not many. 5

She didn’t know it, but it has long been said that you never truly appreciate something until you lose it. Why? Why can’t people learn to just appreciate what they have? Why can’t they be amazed with the small things that make a big difference?6

She knew this answer almost as soon as the question had crossed her mind: Because… It’s there.7

Indeed, it was. People learn to forget about those tiny things that can have the utmost impact on their life, simply because those things are. They see it everyday, and their fascination with it fades... Every moment they spend thinking, breathing, moving, or seeing, they don’t even realize what it is that makes these things possible.8

Had she always been like this? So… philosophical? So wise?9

No. It was because she’d lost something, too.10

She didn’t even know who she was. She didn’t know where she’d come from. She didn’t know how old she was, what day of the week it was, or even the year. They were small things. Small, but important. Had she realized how important they were before?11

She tried thinking back, but there was nothing. Not even a blur. It was just… nothing. It was as though she’d been born yesterday, and for all she knew she had been. It was like being asked a question that you couldn’t even hazard a guess at the correct answer without having some foreknowledge of the question itself. You cannot know things that you are not told.12

What things had she lost? Friends? Family? If they found her, or if she found them, how could she confront them? How could she tell them that she didn’t know who they were? How could she admit that she couldn’t remember the ones that she had loved the most, and couldn’t even give a reason why?13

From the alleyway she watched. Watched people pass by on the streets… Watched people who didn’t watch her. They didn’t even know she existed. But she knew they did. She recognized them as individuals, not a group. She saw every person who walked by her. People was far too big a concept for her to grasp. It was the person that fascinated her.14

At times, she would follow a person. Any person. She would observe them, analyze them, discover as much about them as she possibly could in those precious few moments. Every person was different, but they all shared one thing in common.15

It was their ignorance. People marveled at new things, like a car crash that had happened on Thirty-second Street. Or the man who shot himself in the park. They wanted to know the details. The whys and hows. They wanted to know what events led up to these new things which they had not seen before. They were eager for information. 16

Yet, how can they possibly hope to comprehend these new things, when they fail to even question the old?17

How?18

Her name, she did not know. Her past, she could not remember. However, by this simple lack of knowledge, was it possible that she’d learned more in one day than most people do in a lifetime? She watched from the shadows, marveling at their ignorance. For the moment, she was content.19