Her Paranoia Is Cut From The Whole Cloth

(I am fourteen years old but look like I’m nine. My computer teacher at school puts a cloth over everyone’s hands to practice touch typing. I do this while typing up an assignment in the public library. A stranger pulls the cloth away.)

Stranger: “What are you doing?”

Me: “Homework.”

(She looks over at my screen, and I block it because it is not her business.)

Stranger: “That’s not homework. You’re covering up because you are doing something bad. Why else would you cover the screen and your hands?”

(She chucks my cloth elsewhere.)

Me: “It is my homework, not yours, and the cloth is just how we were taught to touch type.”

Librarian: “Ma’am, please keep your voice down. Sweetie, is she bothering you? Where are your parents?”

(You have to be twelve to be here alone. I now see that the stranger is looking at my screen again.)

Me: “Hey!”

(The librarian turns off the monitor.)

Librarian: “Ma’am, please just go mind your business.”

Stranger: “She’s hiding something bad! A child doesn’t mean innocent.”

(A second librarian has arrived and is escorting her away. I turn back to the first librarian.)

Me: “I am fourteen, here alone, and I’m only doing homework. That stranger thought I was up to no good because I had that cloth over my hands, and it got worse when I covered my screen when she stared at it.”

Librarian: “I see. Let’s pick up that cloth she threw over there. Ignore that woman. We’ll keep an eye out.”

(I found out later that she has harassed others for various reasons.)