When I lived at home, I never thought about being very beautiful in human society. I had never appreciated my looks, and now this general admiration for them made me want to go home as soon as possible so that people would stop staring at me. It was an insanely burdensome feeling.
«How do my sisters stand it? It's so disgusting to cause everyone's attention!» – I thought grudgingly, lowered my gaze to the road, quickened my step, and tried to suppress the thought that I had become a show dog of an expensive breed.
«Who is that girl? I haven't seen her here before» I suddenly heard as I passed two young men. – «Probably a student. I wonder where she lives?» – replied another voice. – «I'm more interested in how she got here. Hardly with her brain» replied the first one to him.
Hearing this assumption, offensive to me and my intellect, I was greatly offended by these people.
«Wow, they think that if I'm pretty, then I'm not smart enough to get into Oxford on my own? Do all the people round here think the same?» – I thought with despair.
My beautiful mood was crushed: I walked towards home and thought only of bad things. My resentment would not go away: I was resentful of the many long hours I had spent studying at home. And self-education? I had worked so hard at it, sitting at my laptop all day long!
«People are horrible, stupid and narrow-minded! If it were up to me, I'd kill people like those guys in the first place! – I thought. – I'll have to ask Mary about what's going on with these people! Why the hell do they think I'm a stupid person?»
And then I realised why I hadn't noticed the attention before-Mary was occupying my thoughts, distracting me, and when she left, my mind turned to the world around me.
«My vampire hearing is the real enemy! Well, why am I hearing everything that's going on around me? It's just unbearable!» – I frowned.
Finally, I started to walk towards the house and my attention was caught by a man in a strange uniform knocking on the door of my house.
«It must be the postman! There's my parcel!» – I guessed and, quickening my step, I approached the postman.
– Good afternoon. Are you here to see me? – I asked him politely.
– I suppose I am. Are you Miss Misha Mroczek? – he asked with a smile.
– Absolutely, that's right. Do you need any supporting documents? – I walked up the stairs and opened the door.