Moonlight Kisses

blackout

one year ago.

Silence. Unlike most people, I love it. I love being in my own company. I love the times where I get to pull away from all the madness and listen to the morning calls of birds barely rising from their nests and feel the early morning dew of the grass between my fingers. The best part about the mornings is that no one bothers me. Everyone knows I like to have my mornings all to myself. My afternoons may belong to the living hell that is my school day, but the mornings are all mine.

Then my alarm goes off, killing my silence. Shit, I internally curse and haul myself up from the quiet bench towards the edge of my backyard. I wasn't quite done yet, but time doesn't quite understand how thinking works. It kind of just flies by while you're in your head. One minute, it's bright outside and the next the moon is out and you're wondering how cold your dinner has gotten.

Or maybe that's just me. It seems like in a lot of the things I do, I always do them by myself. Not the typical teenage dream I know.

Before Kat can tell me to do so, I'm already waiting in our living room for her. My sister's always been the prettier one of the two of us, that doesn't come as a surprise. She's charismatic, people like her, other rejoice when she comes around. She actually has friends. Not the shallow kind that only sticks around until they find a newer, shinier crowd, but real ones she's held onto since grade school. I envy my sister.

Grandma's been super religious since the beginning of time. She'd say envy was a sin and I'd say she never had to go to high school in the 21st century. There's envy all around, from the preppy assholes who seek more substance in their lives to the lowest on the social pyramid who look forward to getting the fuck out of that place.

That would be me.

Kat bounds downstairs in perfect hair and makeup. So natural yet it suits her so well. Our uniforms aren't so different in style, just that hers fit her better. She filled out really fast while I was a "late bloomer" according to my mom. If that's just code for "you've got the body of a prepubescent boy", she's right on.

I gave up the idea of trying to look pretty for school when I conjured up the fantasy that secondary school was when I'd blossom into the person I'd be for the rest of my life. That thought quickly died off when I realized secondary was the same as primary just with skyscrapers for humans instead of kids half your size. People are still just as mean out in the quad as they were on the playground.

I accepted my fate. I wasn't meant to thrive in school. Academically, I'm great. Socially, the only thing that matters in today's day and age, I lack what most people have. That thing that draws people in and forms connections. I don't know what to call it, I just know I don't have an ounce of it.

"You ready to go?" Kat asks. In the process of shoving one of her books for class into her bag, she groans. Clearly, she's in a rush to get somewhere.

I don't want to hold her back. So I rush to the door to hold it open for her and quicken my steps to match hers.

"Did you finish your homework last night?" she queries. With our parents gone so often, Kat's fallen into that parental role. She didn't have to, her and I both know I'm very independent. I can take care of myself, I have to when I don't have anyone besides my older sister. And she can't be there for me all the time, so I learned to fend for myself.

Usually on the walk to the bus stop is when I get my fill of socializing. I don't talk to anyone at school. Not willingly. The only other person I talk to regularly is the emotional counselor, Ms. Alva. Except the only time I go to her is when Gina finds herself in one of her moods and decides to take it out on me. Even then, I never give her the full story, she's not a therapist she's only there so the school can say they care about their students.