I was once told that a girl would never make it in a man's world. That I should focus on marrying into a wealthy family, satisfy myself in idle gossip with my friends down the street and lead a simple life. But that life could never appeal to someone like me. Ever.
At the tender age of three, I finished reading War and Peace. It was a fantastic read, yet I still didn't understand a few words. So, for my fourth birthday, I asked my parents for a dictionary. Yes, it is quite unusual. A little girl asking for a dictionary. Yet that's what I appealed for. Over and over again until my father gave into my capricious demand.
I still have that dictionary. Granted, it is tattered, its cover is washed out from the sunlight, and there are notes covering its pages, making some words unreadable. But still, I can't bear myself to part with it. I don't tend to let myself get attached to certain things but let's put this into an example. My dictionary was like a literary lovey in my childhood. Whatever I needed to know was inside of it.
At the age of five, it was clear that I wasn't quite like the other girls my age. While they were learning how to behave, I was observing their body language, predicting what they were going to say next, and what they were going to do in the following seconds. My record has been 15 minutes and 12 seconds ever since.
I grew up, like all girls do, and while girls were losing their virginity, I was analysing metallic compounds to try and make something almost indestructible.
"You're smart, Eleanora. But being too smart is a bad thing. Just remember... if you decide to take this on, you'll be alone in a world surrounded by men. They'll underestimate you, they'll pick on you. But what you must do isn't to rhetort back but to prove them wrong logically." Those words were uttered by my grandmother, who lived peacefully in an elderly home.
She was my only anchor, somewhere that I could look towards and see joy. I could remember the times where we danced together. Those were the rare times where I actually smiled. They were bliss, yet fleeting. The saying that happiness only lasts for the reciprocal of its number is indeed true. Time with Grandma was fleeting... but fun.
Then, my talent caught the eye of a prestigious university and once I turned eighteen, I set out to Adair University and never turned back. That's what's beautiful with free will. You can do what you want, when you want, without worrying about how people see you. I leant that the hard way. Just like my last name, my hair is as red as a rose. A deep crimson that I grew out throughout my childhood.
I've been compared to many things in my life, like the "devil" and the "witch". Yet I can't rhetort them... because they are most likely utterly and irrefutably correct.