Dancing in the Oaks

Are You Crying?

Waking up the next morning was like walking one step closer to death. Each minute seemed as if it was inching closer. My heart pounded and I was physically sick. Nick had to go to work, so when I woke up I was completely alone. He did not stay out on the patio to wait for me to let him in. It felt kinda lonely and scary. This was the first time I experienced true fear. I walked into the kitchen to make myself some breakfast. I actually made some blueberry pancakes. It sounded really good, so I fired up the skillet. I know that sounds weird, cooking pancakes on a skillet. Anything is possible with a cast iron skillet. Trust me. That is another concept that Oak Ridge taught me. I planned on chilling out on the patio reflecting on what's going to happen. 9 days, that's not a long time to live. It made me sicker and sicker. I steeped some lavender peppermint tea again. There has never been a moment when I would refuse to drink some lavender peppermint tea.

A piece of paper on the fridge caught my attention. It was the cutest note from Nick. He must have left it there before I watched him leave. It read, 'Norah, I will be back around 5:30. I have a surprise for you. Sunsets are proof that endings can be beautiful too. I assure you: this isn't the end. I will not let you die. I save you once I just cannot throw you away. Sincerely, Nicholas/Nick, your best friend.'

I smiled as I drank my warm tea. I still don't want him, or myself to die though. That is just not fair.

As I sat out on the patio I just sobbed about the possibilities. My brain was turning at the possible pain. When they said death, what did they mean? Would it hurt? I would never see... Nick again. Who would find me? I would not want Nick to find me dead. How would I be murdered? Knife? I winced at the invisible pain. Time had gone by so fast. One moment felt like two seconds. Time just doesn't work like that unless you have pure worry in the forefront of the mind.  I didn't even eat lunch because I was just so sick. The door opened to the back patio and Nick walked out. I hurried and wiped my tears as quickly as possible. He saw where I put the second key to the house. My family always kept a second key around just in case.
When Nick was over the first time I reached for it because I did not have the other key at the time. He figured out where it was. I just told him that he could unlock the door, but only if I was there and he messaged me before. I left my phone inside so he probably assumed I was sittin' outside. I tried not to do anything embarrassing around him, but that was always impossible. "Hey" He said quietly as he shut the door behind him.

"Hey." Was all I could say.

He sat next to me. "Are you crying? No, I should be asking, are you okay?" I could tell he wanted something, but I didn't even bother to ask. I just want this to be over and he makes it both better and worse all at the same time.

My eyes traveled up the pillar that connected to the perpendicular roof above. "Yeah I'm fine." I looked at his face with tears streaming down my face. "Oh my goodness! You changed your hair... it looks different." Stryd neighed back as if she wanted to weasel her way into the conversation. She always found her place in things. I never seemed to be like Stryd. We were polar opposites, but yet we were perfect friends. She was outgoing with the other horses, but I was never like that with humans. I feel like that one country song by Morgan Wallen that goes something like, 'Yeah, but now I'm chasin' potholes in my sunburnt Silverado. Like a heart broke desperado, headin' right back to my roots.' I literally feel like I am running away from the potholes in my life. There are just so many right now. Ain't it amazing how country music shows true emotions and not none of this fake stuff like pop?

"Is it alright?" He ran his fingers through it. His hair is a perfect burnt brown.

Stryd kept staring at us like we were crazy or something. "Yeah, it looks perfect. Honestly, I've always been so jealous of your hair. It's so brown and wavy." I finally let out a small laugh. "You just parted it differently. That's about it. It really makes your eyes look really nice." Why did I always find myself complimenting and thanking this guy?