Eccedentesiast

|12|

Woolgathering- Indulgence in aimless thought or dreamy imaging.

•••

I sit down on a rock that looks over the canyon, the wind whistles through my ears as I stare down at the drop below me, as autumn arrives the leaves are changing into beautiful bright colors. I clutch part of the jagged rock behind me as my feet dangle in the air. All I have to do is move a little forwards and I'll be gone. I realize I'm not here alone but I don't turn around. The same voice that helped me at school is right behind me, whispering softly in my ear. It sounds so familiar, but I can't place who they are. "Don't do this Vayda..."

I smile slightly, it's better if this way, you don't know the pain I've caused and the pain I've gone through.

I scoot closer to the edge. Closer. Closer. Closer. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath as someone calls my name.

When I reopen them, I'm not in a canyon, I'm not with mystery guy but rather I'm in my room, right where I fell asleep, still cuddled up to my blanket. I look at a concerned Lennon, a small frown is formed on his lips and there's a crease in his forehead. "You alright?" I nod and lay my head back down. "Dinners ready."

"Not hungry," I whisper.

His frown deepens, "if you're worried about dad he's not here," I don't respond. "Please come down? You need to eat something."

Not having the energy to fight with him I mutter, "I'll be down in a second." He stays seated for a moment before he gets up and walks out of my room. I sit up slowly and dangle my feet off the edge and just sit there, having no desire to get out of bed.

My eyes avert to the small green journal on my desk. I haven't used it and I never planned on using it but I find myself picking it up along with a pen. I've never been one to like to write down what I think, but I for some reason I do. I run my fingers over the letters on the leather cover of the book Write What You Feel. How do I even do that? I don't know, I don't write everything because there's just some things that should never be said, not even written down on a piece of paper. Porter gave this to me for my birthday last year and I never had a use for it but I before I knew it I began to write and ended up with a full page.

September 26th,

I have Porter to thank for this notebook or journal, whatever you want to call it. But I guess I'm going to use it today and actually write something down but where do I even begin? How do you pour your heart out onto a page? How do you even put your thoughts into words? Thoughts are hard to put into words for others to understand when you don't even understand them yourself. I guess I'll talk about Porter since he's the one that gave me this. I love him (In a friendly way) with all my heart, I really do. I don't know what his thoughts are on me and I would really like to know the truth. He will say that he loves me and that I can always trust him but I can't believe it. I can't believe anything anyone tells me. I want to so bad but I can't. I sometimes wonder where we will stand after high school and as we go to college. Will we have an apartment together like we talked about in the past or will we not even be on speaking terms? Let's be honest, I don't want to live that long, I don't want to live another day. But what

I get interrupted when I hear someone running and seconds later my door bursts open. I hurry and slam the notebook closed. My eyes widen like I was a child that just got caught stealing a cookie. Dayton gives me a strange look and I instantly make a smile play across my lips. He walks up to me and softly places his small fingers on my cheek. I try not to wince but instead keep the smile on my face. "What happened?"

Why do kids always ask questions? I bring his hand down, holding it on my own as I stand up. "Why don't we go down stairs, yeah?" he nods and leads me out of my room. "Have you eaten?"

"Yeah," I barely hear his answer. "Everyone is still at the table, Lenny said I could come get you."

I stop walking and Dayton looks up at me questioningly. I kneel down next to him so I'm at his level. "Can you do me a favor?" he nods excitedly. "Head back down and tell Lenny and Mom-" the word sounds weird coming out of my mouth, like it's not right and it's not. But what can I do? He's just a child and I'm not going to say Monica or your mom. He'll get confused and I don't want to be the one to talk him through that we have different moms. That can be saved for Monica and Dad. "-that I'll be down in just a minute, I just need to do something."

I ruffle his hair and he's off. I get up off the floor and head to my room with a sigh. I know that Lennon will be up in a moment, but I just need some time alone. I don't want to be around anyone.

The journal still sits on my desk, I flip it open and reread the unfinished page realizing that I just keep getting more pathetic by the day. My hand goes to the top of the page, ready to rip it out. I stop myself, instead of ripping out the page I close the book and shove it in the drawer, out of my sight.

•••

I know, I know, short and boring chapter, I'm so sorry. this was just a filler.

~Paislee 💕