not okay {ziam}

twenty-four

{twenty-four}

blood

-

i hadn't realized how far the police station was from my neighborhood. on foot, i found myself becoming unnerved by the silence as cars splashed through the puddles along the old country road. rain from the storm earlier slips from the trees above, dropping from the leaves and falling onto my head with a thud. my arms curl around my stomach, as the reality of today begun to throb through me. as the numbness subsided, pain ricocheted through my legs and it dawned on me that i possibly wouldn't make it back anytime soon.

the further i made it down the road, i saw a familiar barbed wire fence enclosing the wetland that i have spent far too much of my time in. there's this sense of excitement when i near closer to the humid sticky air that surrounds the marsh as the trees tower over me in greeting. it always felt like a relief to come to this part of town, in the middle of the wilderness and towards the swampy waters and mangrove trees. for some odd reason, this place gave me comfort -- yet, after that day i had stumbled into a crime scene that took place near the pond, i never returned. as i crouch onto the muddy ground and climb through the hole in the fence, i find that curiosity persuades me to do things i typically wouldn't do.

i think of the times i used to come here, usually after i did something immoral and depraved. it felt like forever ago, as i amble past ancient trees and twigs that snap upon my entry. i didn't feel like that person anymore, the kid who lived amongst the shadows and obsessed over girls who didn't even know i existed. the kind of guy that people suspected nothing of and never left a trace of occupancy anywhere my presence drifted from. i didn't want to be invisible or withdrawn anymore, i wanted to be someone that people smiled at or even liked.

sitting at the pond and examining the tadpoles swimming through the algae growing amongst the rocks, strangely, i felt free. if i convinced myself enough -- i could be someone who had friends and did things teenagers usually do. the more time i glide through the lull i cherish, it occurs to me that life is only what you make of it. a weight feels lifted from my shoulders, realizing that the only person who could save me from my misery was myself. not zayn and his exhilarating nature or latching onto anger just to experience something. i had to take control and take risks, on my own. without constraint, without fear, i wanted to learn who i really was.

it doesn't even surprise me when i hear a bike tread through the mud. 

i'm in a state of calm, when really i shouldn't be. seeing patrick in that condition, taken away by the police for a horrific death of someone i'll never let go of. it should send me in my habitual tailspin, where i'm gasping for answers and cinching onto zayn for his command. thinking of patrick's red, distraught face and mandy becoming just a lost memory of mine. it's not as though i stopped caring, i just became cognizant that i didn't have the power to change anything anymore.

i let it wash over me, i let go of my restraint and experience what it feels like to be at ease in my mind. because when i hear zayn's voice in the middle of the wetland, i'm glad i still have him. at the end of the day, i'll always prefer his company over anyone else's. as i turn to take him in, his hair is askew and his skin is glowing with a sheen of sweat. he's got a certain smugness burning in his dark eyes and i can't believe that i ever doubted his ability to coerce just about anyone to give into him.

"how did i know that you'd be here?" he smirks, dumping the bike that had been a little too big for him onto the ground. it's yellow with red handlebars and appears to be the antithesis of the boy in front of me. i wondered where he found it and how he manages to slither from one incident to another. i actually laugh at his audacity and let it bubble through my chest with warmth, shaking my head with awe.