Meet Me in the Future, Love.

Dalia or delilah?

Songs: "Hey there Delilah" -Plain White T's
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September 10th, 2021
The first 5 seconds of opening my eyes in the morning is what breathing in fresh air feels like. In those discombobulated seconds, the dream continues into life. I don't remember any of the inferior things, prone to anxious, somber or heartbroken feelings. Just awake and focused on breathing. When those blissful 5 seconds end, roll my eyes and groan. I lurch myself over to smack the alarm off, letting myself sit in the newfound silence before getting ready to go back to my 9th school, in 9th grade.

I end up picking out my worn pair of lowrise jeans, paired with a layered white tee over a long sleeved sage green shirt. Staring back and forth between my white or black converse, I wonder if the people here really deserve this much of my effort. I started school about two weeks ago, and everyone is still in the excitement of seeing their friends that they haven't seen all summer. I've gone pretty much unnoticed since the first day. I cringe at the memory of sitting alone for lunch the past 2 days.

I set out my schedule for today in my head as we pull into the back parking lot, between the middle school and high school, so that my little sister doesn't need to trudge in the rain. I flash memories of people in each class and wonder about who will be my first friend.

Walking into homeroom to find the usual early birds sitting in their seat. I take mine as the teacher says hello again, and start my new book as the adolescents fill the classroom. When the final bell tolls and the last few teenagers crawl the halls, I get the odd feeling of a pair of eyes on me. Like anyone else, I cant help but to look around. My yellow-green eyes lock with the boy who sits 2 seats back's brown eyes and his lips curl up into a welcoming smile. Who knew, guess im not invisible after all.
"Your Delilah right?" a voice cuts into my headphones playing in my ear. I've probably heard the voice surrounding me these past few days, but haven't cared enough to note who it is.
I turn my head taking in the face now next to me, looking right at me. Is he joking?
"Close. Dalia." I try to say in a somewhat witty voice.
"Shit." He laughs, leading me to laugh at the awkwardness. The bell rings and I take that as a quick chance to run to my lunch.

The rest of the school day dreads on with my overly boring classes. I remind myself that I am working for grades this year, not friends. From an outside point of view, I know a lot. Being an observer, I see everyone's secrets playing out in plain sight.

After restlessly laying in my bed after school, I sit up and rub my face, deciding I need vitamin D. I throw on a tank top and athletic shorts and head out of my basement bedroom with a book. My room has no windows and functioning seems 10x harder when you have no natural light, or light at all!
Sitting outside of my new house to read is the closest thing to peace there is around here. I mean this area that my dad moved us to is peaceful, but never quite still. I needed a sign, a spark of something to continue going. I knew I wanted a future and I knew life isn't about high school, but it was hard to look past what's happening in your life when thats an everyday now. Insufferable. The sun was setting in the distance and a beautiful luna moth caught my eye while gazing. I examined the details of the moth, taking in the long wings with pretty dots on each wing the best I could. The outer greyish-brown wings are thin enough to be transparent. I could see the beautiful blue and black lines and dots inside of the wings. When the fluttering stopped, and the wings lay open in front of me, the moths body became visible. The slight image of a northern star right where the wings connect is forever a memory engraved in my brain. Quickly, the moth crawled onto my hand, trusting it's life with me. Moving it closer to my face to inspect is when I get the first glance of the moths mangled wing.
Though it flew over here just fine, she refused to fly from my hand. I let out a slow, cool rush of breath onto her with my hand up, trying to let him free into the air. She fluttered around for a few seconds, that's all though.
Delilah. Her name has to be Delilah.
I spent hours out there trying to get Delilah to fly, letting her walk all over my arms and legs. I set her down in many places and tried to keep her safe.
I found a safe, strong bush, and set her on a nice branch for the night. She crawled from my hand to the bush and settled down on the stick, as if on cue.

The next morning, my first thought is that damn moth. Saturdays are meant for sleeping in and being lazy, but here I am rushing outside before the chill end of summer morning has faded away. I realize from my front door, while stepping out, that Delilah the moth is still in the delicate spot.
As if her wings had matured themselves overnight, she flew to me and landed on my shoulder.
The pink haze of the sun coming out glazing the beautiful and sensible species, trusting me with its life. I have never seen a more beautiful sight.

I knew something big was coming.
As if reading my mind, Delilah takes flight into the painted sky, spinning back several times as if waving.
That night, I bought a Kitten.
"Lav. I'll make her Lav."