People.

two

Honestly, staring at the ceiling is a great thing. You just lay on the bed, or a carpet, maybe floor, up to you, and you just look, nothing more simple and nothing more calm. A gray wall will not judge you. Just no questions about mental stability (maybe because in my case it doesn't exist anymore).

I sigh. When will this light come to shine?

Overthinking should be considered as a full-time job. If I got paid for it, I'd be a millionaire before starting high school. However it does not help on everything around. You can just pray for hope, when you can't stand your heaviness anymore. But you push through, because you know that there is not other choice that you could make.

***
I get up. I put myself together. I go there again. I say "hello" with a smiley face, I guess I'm a perfect actress, cause no one noticed during over the years. Or may I say, I don't show anything. I don't let myself and I don't even want to.

It is possible to forgive the words, very quickly, but you'll never erase some of them from your mind. You'll always remember, how it hurt, because somehow it sticks better than the good moments.

I face her every day. She's one of the best creatures in my existence but I can't forget how deep this knife had cut.

I told you, what hurts me the most, and then you did it perfectly, you'd get an A plus in this subject I'd fail. Just because I treat you as always, it does not mean that I forgot. I forgived, yes, on the same moment the words left your mouth, but my heart has scars that I will keep to myself. But I remember, I remember perfectly, howling in tears, curling up into a little ball, just to beat up on myself for feeling hurt. Now, older and more mature me remembers the feeling more than words.

This is what it is with any kind of love: giving someone the knowledge and power to break you into pieces, hoping that they won't. One type of this love is simply called friendship.

I go through the corridor, I see Rose and her black leather jacket. I always thought that my best friend is beautiful, but nowadays I'm a bit jealous of her appearance. She has wooden-color eyes, good music taste and and three rings on every finger. She saw me at my wrost, but I still feel like a mystery for her. I hate crying in front of people, so if I do it, either this creature feels like a safe place to fall, or, more likely to happen, I'm just so not okay, that I can't hold it back anymore. I didn't do it for a long time, but I remember how I used to cry in the bathroom, wash my face and go on.

- Hi, you heard about Leo and Milo? - she asks after hugging me.

- Hi, I didn't, what's going on? - I ask, laying my backpack on the floor. Milo is our classmate, and Leo is Rose's friend. Kinda mine too, but me being socially awkward doesn't help with that.

- They don't talk to each other since Friday. I have no clue, why, but I'm afraid it's serious.

- After few more days it'll be okay - I say, taught a bit by few experiences - You know, how it is; they'll come to terms before math.

- Yes, I forgot they sit together on Polish - agrees Rose - You heard about miss Mariam's idea about this trip next month?

- I did, but I'm not going - I say, opening the history textbook - I just don't feel like it.

- Hey, come on, it'll be fun! Me, you, Milo, Leo and Jacob with Alexis. And free food, girl! - she tries to convince me, but I'm still not coming. I have to prepare a whole speech so that my parents will let me stay at home. Probably they won't be even surprised.

- You know I don't like trips like that. I'm gonna stay and study. - I tell her, but I know she won't give up.

- Hello! - and then Leo appears. He has short, curly hair and a red hairband around his forehead. I like him, he's so lovely. Once I helped him writing a history essay an the next day he got me a pack of pocky as a thank you. And how can you not love a human like that?