Every Breath You Take; The Police
Liam
Early Monday morning in a History class was one of the most horrible nightmares any student could dream of. I was seriously dozing off, but since I was in the last seat, the Professor, who was busy talking to an almost unconscious class, couldn't see me. To be honest, I did not even glance at her when she came in. I was busy thinking about the only person who could occupy my head and everything else in a second.
In this quiet class with the voice of this faceless professor almost lulling me to sleep, I thought about her. Every detail of her was etched into my memory like a tattoo. Her hair was dark like midnight now. She had stopped dying her hair red, leaving her hair their natural black color. Her eyes were equally black, the coldness in them was something that only changed when she looked at me.
The fact that she was my girlfriend was like a dream that I would wake up from at any time.
I don't know when I started to love her, but this feeling was something I could never live without. I could never live without her. This was a fact that no one could disprove. I had learned of this the hard way, and it wasn't something I or anyone else who knew me wanted to ever experience again.
I closed my eyes as the professor kept on talking about the history of Charlottesville and its two neighboring towns. I thought about my efforts to get into this school with Sia, and my life disappointment when I realized she wasn't in this class with me. I was also worried. Very worried, in fact. She hadn't still picked up my calls.
I had called her almost twenty times since I woke up from my beauty sleep yesterday. Amos had promised to call back, but he didn't, and when I woke up, it was almost midnight. The moment I opened my eyes, I hurriedly picked up my phone, hoping to see Sia's call notification, but there was nothing. I tried calling her again, and after three tries, I stopped. I didn't want to look too clingy, so I decided not to call her that night again.
I then turned to my roommate's side, but his bed was still made and he wasn't in the room. He hadn't even sat on the bed after making it in the evening. That was the first day of college, and I knew there would be many parties going on, but I didn't think my roommate was the party type. I mean, was he going out to the party in that gloomy appearance? Was he going to stand in a corner and observe everything that was going on like a creepy stalker? Oh wait, did I even know him? No.
When I woke up this morning, I called her twice, waited for a minute, and called twice again. After bathing I called. After brushing my teeth I called. Before eating I called. After eating I called. I had been literally holding my phone ever since I woke up. In all, I had called her more than twenty times. I decided to stop calling her and look for her after History class.
Sigh.
This was frustrating.
My mind began to wonder about all the possibilities as to why she wasn't picking my calls. Today was the day I had planned to take her out on a special date. Today was our one-week anniversary. Had she forgotten about it? Or maybe she didn't think much about it because it wasn't common for people to celebrate their one-week anniversaries? That was no problem because I was planning g on celebrating not only our one-week anniversary but also our one month, three months, six months, one year, one decade, and many more till the end of our lives. Or maybe she was intentionally avoiding me? Ah no. Why would she avoid me? She was beaming when I asked her to be my girlfriend. It was only one week, there was no way she would have gotten tired of me that fast.
But what if she had really gotten tired of me? I was nothing special, after all. I wasn't rich, wasn't cool or sociable. No abs, no muscles, and my speech skills were almost zero. I couldn't even flirt with my own girlfriend. I was always stuttering or blushing in front of her. The only thing I was confident it was my face. I was very handsome. So handsome that, sometimes when I looked in the mirror and saw my face, I'd be like; How can someone be as handsome as this? Isn't it a crime to be this handsome? If it was a crime to be handsome, judging from my face, I would get a death sentence. And then I would be blushing at my own image in the mirror. See? This was how stupid I was.
