The stag hunt with the scarlet heart

Chapter 7 "I'm trapped in a glass globe"

I let my walls fall.

I indulge myself for a moment a day.

I close my eyes, trying to go back to my past, letting the feelings come out. I run my fingers over the edges of the purple leather notebook, feeling the stitching and stopping over my name engraved in the corner of the cover, remembering how big it felt in my nine-year-old hands.

I believed then that if I wrote enough, a Christ I no longer believed in would help me to be there for her. He never answered, or maybe he did, he sent a demon disguised as an angel to ruin my life and no one could do anything to stop him, I stopped thinking that Jesus or God for that matter did not exist. If there is a God, why did He let me suffer so much? I believed with all my heart, but he never answered, the only thing left of that innocent girl is in these pages.

I want to cry for the loss of that little girl, the one who ran away to write, the little girl who thought an abandoned train station was full of history, and cry for the little girl who thought she met her Prince Charming when she met Atlas.

Dear Jesus,

It's normal to feel lost? It's normal to want to escape?

It's normal to want to be found and to want to hide at the same time?

I've heard that the whole world is a theater, and everyone is playing the role they were given, I definitely missed the meeting where the roles were handed out.

Because everybody seems to know what to do, and most of them are doing it pretty well.

And I have no idea what's going on, I want to ask someone for the script, my mother seems to know it well, but I'm afraid to ask her:

Where do I stand, what do I say, should I smile when it's the last thing I want to do?

I'm overwhelmed, home has been a challenge, school a comfort. Ryan and Autumn seemed to be doing better. But then he showed up. The new guy.

Everyone wanted to be his friend the popular kids invited him to sit with them and play soccer after lunch we had art class, I suck at drawing but this time it wasn't so boring, the new guy sat at one table behind me and made a joke about how he could draw the sun when the sky was always gray, I laughed at that, and he looked at me, he has the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen in my life.

"What's your name?" He asked me, and I stared like a fool at the bright blue in his eyes. They were ocean blue.

"Saffron." I stammered, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. He extended his hand.

"Atlas." His voice was very firm, even his gestures made him look older as if we weren't really that age.

He had plenty of questions, I didn't feel qualified enough to give him all the answers, but that didn't stop him as he from leading the conversation, by the time he walked home with me, I seemed to know every single one of his tastes, he liked white chocolate and sunny days, he didn't have a favorite color and said if mine was good enough then he'd steal it, purple is not as masculine, but he made it his own anyway, just like the love for comics and old books.

For the first time, the night seemed to be just a transition to a better day than the one before.

The front door slams so hard that I jump out, closing the diary. I take a deep breath, I prepare myself by burying my emotions and putting up my walls again.

As I walk down the stairs I see my dog running towards me, then he puts his front paws on my chest, if I wasn't holding on to the metal banister I probably would have fallen, I scratch his head as I watch Ryan taking his time to choose from the meager collection of wines he's so fond of.