"Loving the Pain"
823 Words
Have you ever stood in the hot boiling sun and felt the UV rays coursing through your skin after being in a cold room? Feels liberating doesn't it? It's like that with feelings, drugs that have captivated your very being; ingrained into your neural system. Well, I'm supposed to feel that. however my emotions, my tears are frozen. I don't know, it's maybe the shock of it all. When you're too high in the clouds, one tends to feel as if nothing or anyone can turn them it dark, sorrowful skies. Oh, the naivety.
I lied on the swinging bench, deep in my thoughts; more than I usually am. I don't know how to feel about something like that because it is my first. Right now, at this moment, I'm at peace without a care in the world. I am at Chare's house apparently...well yea. This morning I woke up at 4:30 out of a nightmare. Normally, I don't dream; much less to have darkness and red tone covered walls reflecting crimson spread strata and smoky air. I have not the slightest idea what that means; to me their just abstract colours. All the same, I've gotten freshen up and out here ever since. Maybe I have dozed off one or two times already.
During those times I could feel cold hands caressing my face at one point but I shrugged it off. It's probably, Charms, Chare's Shih Tzu. "Jaedae, your driver is here!" I heard Chare's mom shout from the kitchen. I ran upstairs to get my knapsack and charged out the door while saying, "Bye Auntie."
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The thing about a dramatic turn of events in school is that they usually burn over into the weekend and not many people remember. However, It is the second day of school and the repetition of such an experience is far from over. Even worse, Chare had to go in way early for cheerleading practice. Why they need to, is beyond me. Anyway, I straightened out my lavender floral above knee dress and straightened my matching thigh highs cladded in my silver Doc Martens. My bag embraced my shoulders as I walked into the hallways of the school. I could feel the burning stares of everyone on me, or that's just what I think.
It was ten minutes until school processed so I grabbed my favourite silver platinum jumper from my locker and proceeded to go to homeroom. Suddenly I was pulled back into a muscular chest by my waist and my body froze up. The familiar scent of vanilla and coconut ghosted into my nostrils and almost had me in a haze, keyword, almost. I managed to pull myself away from the person and I was right.
"Tyler, why are you here?"
"To see my girlfriend, of course. Why haven't you been home?"
"What, how do you know I wasn't?"
"Uh...I went to your house." He said if it was the most obvious thing in the world."
"Look, if you want to talk we can meet at the diner in town." I roll my eyes and walk off.
"There about thousands around which one?!"
Well, it's a bit too late to turn back now because my teacher and I just walked in at the same time. Just wonderful. Do you know what's more wonderful? Is to learn that all your classes have been upgraded to the A.P. level. A prior warning would have been nice but I'm not surprised; the "number one school" is absolutely lackadaisical when it comes to things like this. Looking on the bright side, my parents will ecstatic about this news, if they weren't aware already.
Let's just say I settled into my first two classes, Biology and Literature, pretty well. Besides that, I was super excited for lunch so my best friends and I could have lunch and laugh as loud and freely as we want. Char, Angel, and I walked out of the A.P. room and made our way across to the second floor of the cafeteria via the elevator. We got our lunches and sat in the center on the top floor near my brother and his pack of wolves. I listened to the soft tones of the jazz music that aired through every intercom. Yup, my principal's endorsements. He says that it cascades and heals the even the farthest corners of our damned souls. Whatever, he's always like that.
Once again, it was after school and I made my way out the school and quickly my driver carried me to gymnastics training.
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- Writer
