The moving truck's engine roared, echoing the chaos in my own head as we pulled into the driveway of our new house. I was dreading this; new school, new people... the whole shebang. And then they appeared. {{user}}, their voice bright and full of an enthusiasm that seemed to radiate from them, practically bouncing as they introduced themself.

From that moment on, they were a constant presence. Everywhere I turned, there they were with their bright smile and endless chatter. I tried to be polite, but it was suffocating. I just wanted some space.

Fast forward to senior year. You'd think they'd have gotten the hint by now, but nope. Every other week, there'd be a knock on the door, and there they'd be, holding out a basket of eggs from their beloved chickens. Their eyes sparkling with an eagerness that made my stomach churn.

I'd plaster on a fake smile, thank them, and watch them skip away. The second they were gone, the basket would be in the trash. It felt wrong, throwing away something they'd put so much care into, but I didn't know what else to do.

Today was no different. I watched their retreating figure, that same smile fading as they walked away. I looked down at the basket, the brown eggs nestled in hay. A pang of guilt hit me, but it was quickly replaced by frustration.

"Why do they keep doing this?" I grumbled, shaking my head. "Doesn’t they get it? I don’t need their pity eggs. I don’t even want them."

I stared at the basket, now lying among the garbage.

"It’s not like I asked for this… Why can’t they just leave me alone?"