Masked

Entry Seven

Hey, future me. When I got home that night, I responded to one-hundred-sixty-eight messages with a smiling picture of myself in my pink LEDs with a caption reading: 'hey guys! im fine, thanks for all the worry. I just wasn't feeling great and went home, that's all! See you on monday!'

Danielle was the only one who didn't quite buy it. She had tried to come over, but I told her off, explaining that I had to work on my Socials project, as well as study for an upcoming Chemistry test. I also argued that if I was sick, she wouldn't want to be around to catch the bug. Danielle knew I wasn't in dire need of study time and didn't care about getting sick, but she only pestered me about coming over for a few minutes before giving in. I had managed to stop crying for the picture for my classmates and friends, but the tears were threatening to spill over as I wandered my room aimlessly.

Aunt Jayde had called me down for dinner, but I told her through my locked door that I was going out to eat, and she didn't have the heart to fight with me over the matter. I wasn't planning on going out for dinner. A little hunger pain would have made me feel something, feel alive.

I was silent in my room, pacing, thinking, and writing relentlessly on my MacBook, tears begging to slip out and race down my face. I lasted for over five hours before I finally cracked. It was Gray who finally sent me to tears. I knew I'd hurt him, and I didn't mean to. I really did enjoy his company, but I'd just shunned him, ran out on him in front of the whole class. He was probably confused, and I wanted to call him up, just apologize and maybe explain, although he didn't deserve to hear my explanation. He was too good to me to deserve that.

I rushed to my closet and fell to my knees, ripping my backpack open and searching relentlessly for that crumpled little piece of paper. I forgot where he'd put it and began struggling for it with watery eyes. I remember racking my brain, looking for that silly little paper's position, and finally remembered: the side pocket. I drove my hand into the fabric pouch, fumbling around frantically to no avail. The paper had fallen out. That was that. I'd screwed up, yet again.

I stood up and walked over to my window, yanked it open and yelled out into the darkening sky, the rain pelting down. It hadn't let up from earlier, and I was kind of glad for it. It made my tears seem less significant when I cried.

I turned around, grabbed my old sweater from beside my bag, my half-dead phone, and climbed out my window into the eight o'clock night sky. Climbing down the ladders on the outside of the apartment, I realized I didn't know where I was going, or why I was going. I just knew I wouldn't be able to sleep at home that night, so I kept running and running, just several blocks down until I saw the old clock tower in the distance. That clock tower had been there for over fifty years, standing silently amid several skyscrapers in the downtown area. I could've scaled my wall and climbed up to the roof of our apartment complex, but the rain would have made it difficult. Even though I wasn't alive, I wasn't planning on dying just yet.

My hair was dripping constantly, forcing chills throughout my body, cloaking me in a layer of water to wash away the pain. My socks and runners were dry yet, and all I could hear as I ran to the tower was the constant splashing of my feet in the pooling water on the sidewalk and my heartbeat in my ears. The streetlamps were glowing a faint orange, making the dark grey sky look menacing in comparison. It was still early enough for the lights in most windows to be on, adding various other shades of light to the equation. Many cars still drove through the city, various families to be reunited in a few minutes when their commute was finished.

The thought of family made me stop, panting. I remember looking down into a puddle and seeing my reflection, dripping, wavy hair, shivering in the cold autumn rain. I had bags under my eyes, my mascara was running, and my lips were cold and blue. The constant rainfall warped my reflection, making me look deformed and monster-like. I remember thinking that it was more accurate that way, and a singular tear rolled down my cheek and added its salt to the dirty, roadside puddle before I looked up and continued running.