🍵 Quinoa is this🤏🏻 close.
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When I was born, the evening of February 2nd, 2002, I took my first breath, my mother took her last. Normally, an infant would be handed to the father, as a sense of comfort. A way to compensate the absence of one life with another.
To look at the bright side, one might say.
That's what the nurse said the night I was born.
Wrong decision.
As soon as those words of grace were uttered, my father went mad and attacked the poor girl, to the sound of my mother's flatlined heart.
By default, I was handed to my older sister. She was only ten.
That's how it always was, my sister being my parent from day one.
Even though I was alive, breathing, wailing in my sister's arms, I wasn't living. I never was.
Not until 10 years later, when I met him.
I saw him from where I sat on the swing set, not even swinging, just sitting because I could. I liked to piss off the kids that wanted a turn, it was my nature.
I don't know why, during school I would always watch him.
I know, fucking creepy, but I was 10.
I was so interested in how bright he seemed, how his smile lit up the classroom, how his laughs could seem like the only sound in the world, how he always seemed to stand tall, despite being one of the shortest.
I looked up at the sky, with its bright sun that couldn't come close to the blue-haired boy, and when I looked back to where he was, he was gone.
He always seemed to slip passed me, like dry sand through an hourglass, watching him was like watching time itself. Fast, unpredictable, forever changing, testing, taken for granted, lost.
Though, when I was 10, I didn't realize those last few until it was too late.
Out of nowhere, I got winded from the back, landing face-first on the ground. My head ached, I felt blood leaking from my head, then I felt angry. I bounced up quick, as small as I was, I had good stamina and I was always ready to fight. Of course the one I saw, now sitting on my swing and dangling his feet with grace, was the bright boy. He was smiling at me, if my own dark mind hadn't existed, that smile would've blinded me.
No matter how bright this boy was, little me just didn't like being pushed around, my sister taught me better. I started to march towards him, my face scrunched with anger, pushing aside his two goons that tried to stop me with ease.
The first thing I went for was his nose. It took him by surprise, he wasn't used to such violence. Why would he be? His soul was like the sun, his eyes was the sun's reflection upon the sea. He was nothing like me, and I hated that. The blow sent him to the ground, crimson streaming from his nose. I jumped on him, and kept going.
It wasn't long till a teacher stopped me and dragged the both of us into the principles office. The entirety of the time that our principle was speaking, I just glared at the ground, as if I was going to fight that too. At this time, I was still mad at the world and all the un-luck it had brought me. And the boy to my left? I felt his eyes on me the entire time as well.
Fucking weirdo.
I could sense his staring was something more, it was his own curiosity. He wasn't like me. He came from a brighter world than me, one tainted with gold and love. He has never encountered something as dark as me, so he made it his mission to learn everything of my life.
