Immoral Love

Honey

January. Another year, another 12 months of dullness.

It's Tuesday. Need I remind you that I despise Tuesdays, no I loathe them. Mondays suck, the regeneration of a tiresome week. Yet the second day is the pivotal
point it sinks in. You're stuck repeating 7 days of endless torture.

For many, it begins after the beep. The involuntary opening of your eyes, as you cross the threshold, from personalized fiction to the crap we call life. Luckily insomnia has its perks. Limited perks do I dare say. I was usually awake at the time of the alarm.

Following breakfast; a ceramic circle of soggy blobs floating in milk...is leaving the pajamas. Oh the comfort, oh the warmth. Ripped away, into pleated school skirts. Itchy socks and ludicrous hats. That offers no protection, might I add. Ladies are meant to be elegant my ass- This pompous shit is ridiculous. How am I expected to function in- "MIDDLETON!"

I shudder.

The deafening growl echoed the room. Bouncing from corner to corner, transforming to blades as they cut me in ricochet. The room once big is now enclosed in. It's shrinking, replicating my chest as I gaze behind me. Left to Right. I see eyes, too many eyes. They're no longer directed at the board, no they're at me. I'm just Lilly, why are they looking? Why do they care? I go unnoticed.

"Middleton, I have addressed you. Have the decency to respond or at best lookup"

My eyes snap to the harsh tone of my teacher. A middle-aged man with his patience long gone. Yet his present smirk, causes the sympathies I had, for his tired eyes and hunched back, to now disappear.

"Whats the pathetic excuse this time for your daydreaming?"

Yep - long gone.

Before I can bite my tongue, distract myself with the pinch of my nails, seeping into my skin. "Prick" has left my lips. Only a mere mutter under my breath. Yet its sting was delivered.

Sir's eyes narrow, as they now glare ahead. The hiss in his words caused the lump to grow in my throat. I dread the following sentence. I know it's coming. The cause of more eyes, more daggers to pierce my back. Have you not shredded it enough?

"Middleton, out."

My body sharply inhales. Oh, how I wish my brave conscious could speak for me. For once you could be useful - Be my exterior, rather than the obnoxious chatter clouding my thoughts.

"Pack your books and leave."

My hands begin to tremor. The following words he spits. With unneeded venom. Fueling a fire I so desperately tried to snuff.

"There's no room for dirt here".

A chorus of gasps floods my ears. Whispers tickling the hairs on my neck. My classmates, now spectators observing the attack.

The glint of hostility within his eyes causes the pain in mine to grow. He's tormenting me, how dare he. A past I buried. I dug so deep my hands blistered.

My frail frame now shrinks inwards, falling. I gape at the tiles beneath my tattered sneakers. Please, I'm begging. Swallow me whole. Consume me. I can't stand the unspoken hatred I'm receiving.

I see movement in my peripheral vision. With a relieving sigh, I thank the unknown God for answering my prayer. Yet I swallow, loudly, as my eyelids shake with timid blinks. Two leather boots are now in the frame of my sight. Squashing my escape route. Blocking the tiles from opening.

I can physically hear my breath, the shaky waves of oxygen that don't seem to be enough. The burn increases as I scale the boots, up to his legs, to his black eyes. They hold so much resentment.

"Get out" he barked. If not for his intimidating height, I'd think him a guard dog. Snarling at intruders.

I know he wouldn't touch me, he wouldn't dare. His precious blue card is too valuable, to let his malicious animalistic traits surface. Yet the raise of his arm, to adjust his lanyard, was the last straw. A Flinch so harsh, the wind is knocked from me. His smirk was the retaliation, my heart couldn't handle.

I blink and I'm 3 steps from the door. My books were a mess against my chest, the handle of my bag, loosely strung between each finger. Barely a grasp. I don't care. I'm suffocating and I need oxygen. A breath.

The gush of wind running through the halls is cold against my cheeks. Disrupting its race, it leaves a shiver on my face, despite my burning interior. How had I not noticed the tears lacing my once-content features?

The slam of the class door broke my thought. Followed by a sudden swivel of my body. I had planned to exit the slaughterhouse. My plan was flawed. I hadn't taken into account, the loose grip of my bag. It swung from my hand. Yet the hands on my shoulders held me from retrieving it. They kept me grounded.

Wait.

Hands on my shoulders.

Hands.

On.

My.

Shoulders.

My hyperventilating has now ceased.

Tears still flowing yet now accompanied by hiccups. Great.

"Lilly"

No. The sweet trickle of honey that voice was. Yet I made myself dislike the taste. I despise honey.

"Lilly look at me"

I did the opposite. I scrunched my eyes, so tight I fear they'd combust. A chuckle followed.

Oh, how I missed that melody.

No. Stop it, Lilly.

But why can't I look, just a peek. It'll be over in a second, I swear.

You've made that promise before, Lilly. It left you raw, more tortured.

Shutup. I'm trying to think.

I can't go through with it again.

"Lills.... Please"

Don't listen. Don't listen. You'll only give in. Just remain frozen and he'll leave.

God this must look strange to the poor cleaner, left mopping the halls. Pathetically hiding his attempt to eavesdrop.

"Bub... what's wrong"

My eyes shot open. Bub. All the memories infiltrating the dam I'd created. Seeping through the cracks of my attempt to shelter my wounded heart from my dirty past.

He's right. There's no room for dirt here.

As much as I wish to respond, to gaze into his eyes, give in to the sweetness of honey. I keep my line of sight low. I shrug him off, straighten my shoulders and pretend I'm fierce. Be the inner Lilly, or at least pretend she's on the outside.

He left. Left me here, with the dirt for all to see. I've scrubbed so hard my skin is raw. Did he expect to find a clean Lilly? Pristine in her innocence and happiness. She'd jump into your arms. Ignore the flocking students as the bell rings and go out for lunch to catch up on pastime.

Well, your wrong Eli.

I repeat the phrase ten times over as I walk away. If I stop, I'll cave in and reach for your warmth. But fierce Lilly isn't afraid of the cold anymore.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Heyyy!!

I know the story's description is vague. I don't want to reveal the plot too soon! You'll have to trust me. Feedback is welcome :)