Feel (Kellic)

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

I haven't moved from my room. I've gotten countless knocks on the door from Frankie, Ms. Snowdon and sometimes even Mr. Davis. I refuse to get up and open my door for any of them. I'm surprised Vic hasn't stopped by. Being a ghost, can't he just walk through walls? I have no idea. Even if he can, I still would have figured out a way to keep him out.

Okay, so I like Vic. What's the problem with that? Everything. I can't like people, that's just not right. Especially in the way that I seem to like him. I tolerate Frankie, Ms. Snowdon is nice to me. So why do I like Vic? Now that I think about it, I don't know him enough to have value to the crush. Right? Ugh, I don't know!

I'm going to keep avoiding him. There's no way I'm going to step foot out of this room. Not even if I run out of food and water. Not even if they have to kick the door open and drag me out of here. I'm staying right here in this spot.

An hour or two passes. That's when I start getting bored. Usually I never get bored, but now that I've gotten used to going out to the pond or being around Frankie and Vic, I'm finding it hard to stay in one spot. But I need to stay here.

I look around the room, searching for my pile of books. I should probably start one, that would be a good idea. I get up, walking over to the pile. This doesn't count as moving away from my spot. I'm still in my room, aren't I? So this doesn't count.

I grab whichever book is first on the pile, going back over to my bed, where I flop down with a sigh. I open the book and start reading.

So far, it's a good book. It's not boring at all. If this were any other day, I would have been captivated by it. Then again, this isn't just any other day. I can't stop thinking about Vic. I need to get him out of my head, but I can't. Now that I've admitted to myself that I like him, he's invading my thoughts almost every second of every minute. I don't like that.

I put down the book, crossing my arms and staring at the ceiling. I want to keep fighting this, but even if I try to distract myself, it doesn't work. Nothing is going to work. All I can do is stay in this room.

I sit up now, trying to think of something to do that will work. I get up and walk over to my dresser, opening up one of the drawers. I move some clothes out of the way before I pull out a blank paged notebook.

I told myself I'd never draw again. Hayley used to tell me, along with my mother, that I'm really good at art. So, Hayley would go to the park with me and we would both sit there for hours while I drew. I never thought I was that good, but the more I drew, the better I got. I actually really enjoyed art, and I still do. Even though I haven't drawn in so long.

I stare at the notebook. It's not a sketchbook, but it's something. I left all my sketchbooks at home, but I brought this along with me. I open it up, staring at the first few drawings in here. They're good. They're not bad at all.

I shake my head and sigh, closing the notebook up. I put it back in the drawer. I'm not ready to draw again. I would love to, but in all honesty, it freaks me out to know that I'm getting better. If you can even call it that. All I had was an urge to draw, something that I have often. But in all this time, I have never actually opened up my notebook.

I return to my bed, staring at the sheets in front of me. They could use a wash. So could a lot of my clothes even though I don't wear many of them. I wear the same black jeans, white shirt and black hoodie most of the week. Yeah, I change them up, I have hygiene, but it's not like I do much to get them dirty. I go outside, but I'm wary of mud and all that's related to things like that.

Someone knocks on my door. Automatically, I crawl under the blankets, hiding. If they think I'm going to answer, they're wrong. I pretend that I don't exist, I pretend that I'm invisible and the world is fading to nothing but an empty black space in the middle of the universe.