The Leading of Paper Cranes

Chapter 9: Brittle Pecks

Woodworking, woodworking... this class gives me nightmares. I sadly can't skip this class, the toy airplane is due for today and it's worth enough marks for me to not be failing. I honestly thought this wouldn't be a hard class. I apparently thought wrong. The spider web is still gone, but I check my phone habitually. I oddly enough check the weather. It's -5 degrees with a snowstorm. I look forward to going out into the storm.

I'm just angry. I'm angry and guilty and saddened. I got a new desk partner today, since Jasline passed away yesterday. Their name I still don't know yet, he still has yet to give me his name. I just feel lost. I feel lost and confused. It feels like I'm drifting and not steering. It's like a current is taking me downstream into a plunge higher than I could imagine.

"Since 3 of our classmates are.." Mr. Freynas stops and gives reverence to the hopefully ascended. "Gone for good..." He sits in silence for a moment. "Let us welcome our newest members to class."

The person next to me stands up. "Hey, my name's Mika."

Mr. Freynas smiles. "Well hello Mika. I bet you're the answer people are searching for. They may even say Eur-Mika when they find you."

The class laughs at his joke. I even laugh a little. It's a dad joke, but I could care less, I need something to raise me from this pit of sadness. Mika chuckles and sits back down.

Mika smiles at me with a closed mouth. I smile back.

Woodworking finishes and I head with Jazz to his French class.

"So... you okay?" Jazz smiles at me with a frown.

I have to ask myself that question. Am I okay? "I should be fine for now."

He starts smiling as he looks back in the hall. "Well.. I heard you got with Gabriel. Is this your new crush?"

"Nooo," I whine like a needy girlfriend. "It's just Mauriel's friend"

"Well speak of the devil."

Mauriel jumps on my back. I fall on the ground cause I can't seem to balance out his weight. Gavin seems to be behind him. I wave to him. He laughs and waves back.

"Your name's Gabriel right?" Jazz looks at Gavin.

"Yep', that's me. In the flesh. Just call me Gavin."

"Okay!" He smiles and Gavin starts to piggy back Jazz. Mauriel picks me up and we head outside into the snowstorm. We don't care if we're late, we rarely get together the three of us, we may as well take advantage.

Jazz looks into the eye of the storm. "It looks so beautiful. It's madness is so beautiful."

Mauriel shivers, "Bro, get a grip it's so cold."

I agree with Jazz "Why don't you go inside then?"

"I'll be fine. I want to spend time with you guys for a while."

We play in the snow. It really takes my mind off things. The snowstorm gets rougher, however we play even harder. The cold always seemed so familiar, not only literally but It feels like it was apart of my nature. My parents are always complaining about how cold it is outside. Funny, warmth is always associated with goodness and purity and light, and frigid news is always accompanied with feverish hatred or malice or villainous actions. However it's always a comparison that is so deceitful. Warmth can still kill just as badly as the cold. Besides the nights are always so pretty even if it's cold. So much contrast between the lights and darks. The nights and the cold are only scary because make them out be dangerous. Anyways, the nights feel so familial because I've been forced and drowned into a cold shoulder. Does that make me a villain? Does that make me a bad person thinking that the night is safest? Truly murderers in the night, am I comparable to them? However, even still murderers can try to strike into broad daylight.

The malevolent snowstorm becomes even harsher and harsher. We rush inside. We do a quick role call.

"Everyone here?" Jazz looks at me while trying to capture a breath.

"Yeah." I look back at him

"Where's Gabs?" Mauriel looks out the window into the pane of pure white.

"I'll look for him." I tap his shoulder while he has a worried look on his face.

I open the door and enter the blizzard. It's like I can only see a few feet in front of me. I call out for Gavin. No response. "Gavin!... Gavin!" It seems as if the blizzard is drowning out any sort of sound. I can only hear the sounds of hurling snow. Normally snowstorms all you can see is white. Like a swarm of paper cranes making a beautiful masterpiece. A perfect canvas for society to redecorate. However sometimes stains of black interrupt a perfectly white canvas. A snap goes in my mind, like a videotape being played on a television. A black figure appears with Gavin forcibly hanging from his collar.

"J-Land! Hel.." Gavin gets interrupted by the figure.

"Heh-" The figure roars in a snarky manner. "Revenge really is amazing served cold and heartless."

My eyes changes lenses. The once white snowstorm becomes a rainbow of red. The swarm of paper cranes start to bleed. They wail with their demons and cry with their angels. I shiver. Not of the cold, but of the sadistic scene. I sit there standing just staring at this sickly figure. I really have gone mad. I've gone out of my mind. Crazy, psychotic, unpolished.

I just want it to be over. This nightmare of obvious repetition and culpability. I want this saddened, dark, empty, vast room to close in and be filled with colour. I want peace and closure. Is that a possibility? Can it be? Can the stars align in such a way? Damn it, this room only gets bigger and bigger from here. It only gets more messy yet empty. I can't stop it. It's vastness is too much for me to handle. I kneel on the floor and collapse like a corpse. Staring into my own eyes I can't seem to cry. Not even for myself, not even for the narcissist I am. I scream silently. I want to get rid of it all I want to vent It all out. Vomit it. Something. It seems like I'm hanging myself and I enjoy it. I slam my floor enraged and undetermined. I stand up looking for an answer. The floor drops. I can't even punch the floor. I can't slam a wall. It's so freaking frustrating. It's like I can't escape, it's like I can't express any emotion. It's like I can't freaking stomp my feet, traverse a river... it like I can't hold a paper crane no more.

The mirage collapses and sucks me into a nameless void. I wake up from my distress and I seem to have been consumed by the freezing temperature. The paper cranes whirl by melodiously. I'm in a pose in which I have my fist thrusted forward.

I punched someone...