It was 1957. You lived in a very small town where everyone knew everyone, especially you. You were terminally ill, but that was the one thing people didn't know about you, so most people assumed you had 'problems' in the head.

As such, nobody really hung out with you. And you weren't even invited to the dance at the community hall.

As you silently stared into a window, wishing for a healthier and better life, a man approached you and asked. "Are you not going in?" Did he not..know who you were?