seasons of our ruin

three

SHAZIA

i sit underneath the freshly painted bleachers, the lush green grass crunching beneath me as my fingers fish for a cigarette in the pockets of my charcoal plaid skirt. i can feel my throat constricting as its walls threaten to collapse, my breaths becoming heavy as my fists clench the thick material of the school uniform, my fingernails leaving crescents on my palms. my mind spirals into vertigo as the world whirls around me in a blurry spree. my fingers move with new found desperation as one hand tries to find a cigarette and the other hurriedly unclasps the top most buttons of my crisply ironed school shirt. my collar is crumpled, and my breaths are ragged but i still can't find my cigarette. my head folds itself between my knees as my hands wrap themselves around my spinning head. i can feel myself falling into the bottomless chasm of darkness, as the charred residue of my tormented memories climb up my porcelain veins. i try to focus on the good memories, the ones that felt like melted sunshine on my bare back, the ones that felt like the cool rejuvenating raindrops of july on my face, the ones which made me flush with rosewater warmth. our pinkies interlinked as we walked beneath the blossoming cherry blossoms, our carnation mouths drunkenly screaming the lyrics of our favourite aerosmith songs as our feet hung in the air while we swung our bodies as high as we could in a competition against the mauve sky, his honey like voice whispering poorly thought out jokes in my ear as i bit my tongue to hold back my laughter in the class. those memories replayed in my head—golden as ever, sparkling through the abyss of darkness that had cloaked me. slowly but steadily, my breaths became even but they never returned back to normal cause how could i even bear to live, with him forever gone. he was supposed to be with me till the end, he promised me—underneath the cotton candy sky and the swift magnolia breeze, but where is he now? i don't even notice the tears that are freely cascading down my face till i feel the wetness pool around my white shirt, creating a translucent blob.

i bury my face in my hands once more; unmoving, till a voice startles me. its warm and rich like rum soaked chocolate, but even though i can feel the sun peaking in the layers of that voice i can't help but shiver because i know who it belongs to. i could recognise that voice anywhere, because that voice has been the one i've been blaming for this nightmare. your voice has haunted me ever since he left me broken and bloodied. i hastily rub my face with the back of my hand before looking upto you. the sun blinds me as i place my upturned palm against my eyes.

"have you been crying?" you speak as your rich velvet voice pools around me and threatens to strangulate me again. i swallow the growing lump in my throat and shake my head vigorously.

i want you gone. i don't want to see the honey pools of suns that are weaved into your soul, i don't want to be surrounded by your glowing golden beauty. i can't bear to see you, because even though your dark caramel eyes resemble his and the slight smirk that plays on your watermelon lips whenever you smile is hauntingly similar to his— you can never be him.

"jae-hyuk," i speak, as my voice cracks and my lungs desperately try to gulp the sweet spring honeydew air. "i don't want to see your face ever again."

my voice is iron laced with blazing rage. i can see the bleak gray clouds of resignation in your cinnamon swirl eyes, but they still shine brighter as ever because no amount of vehement expletives can ever dim your radiance.

"shazia, it feels good to be hated for a change," you say with a deep chuckle as your fingers run over your chestnut locks. i look at you with sheer bewilderment but you simply give me your signature golden smile before dropping a pack of cigarettes in my clammy palms. its the one which i was searching for— red bordered with eight unsmoked cigarettes.

"you left it in your desk," you say with a shrug. i mumble a  weak thank you before putting the unlit cigarette between my lips. you watch me as i light it and blow smoke into the sickly sweet spring air.

"i know you hate me, but your hate is the most familiar ache i've ever felt," you say as a soft smile finds its way on your peony lips. i try to reply back to you but i swallow the words in my throat as i take another drag of my cigarette.