The noncomformist

She was never one to follow the rules. Ever since I met her, she has done things the way she felt
or the way she thought to be right. I like to think of her as a free bird that will never be caged no
matter how hard one will try. I remember the first day when she entered the classroom. I could
tell from the way that she was dressed that she didn’t care about fashion, for her clothes were a
form to express herself not something to impress others. Her clothes were modest, in an array of
colours and styles, like they have been picked up in a hurry from the closet, but they were
comfortable and practical. She held her head high not taking in all the stares and glares she was
receiving from my other classmates. She seemed like she didn’t have a care in this world,
walking slowly even though she was running late to class. She took a seat in the front of the
classroom and sat alone for the rest of the day. The fact that she was alone didn’t seem to bother
her but was actually enjoying it. I soon learned she never quite saw eye to eye with anyone. She
never understood the school and the teacher’s rules. She always complained that these were
unnecessary and that they were violating our freedom to express freely. She would always break
the rules In protest and speak her mind freely when there was an injustice done to her. Everyone
considered her weird but I always knew that my friend was a nonconformist and she will stay
that way until the day she takes her last breath.