HIS FANTASY

3- SECOND MEET

"Of course! We're at the same school. We can meet there as always and every day." I said, who is already in love with him. He didn't know that anyway.

"Ok, good night." As he uttered those words, he turned and made his way out the door. I couldn't help but close the door behind him and let out a soft smile. 

My heart felt like it was about to burst with a mix of emotions swirling inside me. Despite the fact that we attend the same school, I couldn't bring myself to have high expectations for our future interactions. With his popularity and numerous admirers, I feared that I might just fade into the background and go unnoticed by him.

One year before our graduation:

After ending the call, I gaze at the family portrait hanging on the wall, capturing the essence of our little unit - mom, dad, and me. Each smile frozen in time, every memory vividly etched in my mind. With a heavy heart, I drag myself to the bathroom, determined to wash away the sorrow. 

 I turn the shower knob to the extreme left, craving the scalding heat to numb the ache inside. The water cascades down, turning my skin a bright shade of red, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil within. Stepping out, I wrap myself in a towel, trying to dry away the tears that threaten to fall. 

As I blow-dry my hair, I twist it into a style that hides the roots of my pain, a facade to mask the inner turmoil. Dressing in a simple gray cashmere sweater suit, paired with black pants and ballerina flats, I attempt to blend in with the world outside. Adding extra concealer and blush to my pale complexion, I create a mask to shield the world from the storm raging within me.

As I enter the kitchen, I notice that my mom is not there, but she has thoughtfully saved a space for me at the counter. I pour myself a cup of coffee and indulge in a piece of the delicious banana bread she baked for me. The love and care she put into making it is evident in every bite. 

After a few nibbles, my stomach starts to growl, so I decide to save the rest for later. I carefully wrap the uneaten portion in a napkin and tuck it into my purse, hoping that my mom will believe I finished it. The sweet gesture warms my heart, knowing that she went out of her way to make me feel special.

With a metallic clank, the front door closed. 

As soon as Mom steps foot inside our humble abode, she diligently secures the door before retiring to her slumber. Likewise, when it's my turn to venture out into the world, I ensure the door is locked tight. On our typical days, I refrain from bidding her farewell to avoid disturbing her peaceful slumber. Instead, I opt for a discreet text message, gently informing her of my departure from the comfort of our home.

Without warning, the sunlight is obscured, casting a shadow over the bustling subway platform. The air becomes heavy with moisture, making it feel as though the humidity has intensified. A train screeches to a halt at the station, but I realize it's not the one I need to board. The crowd surges forward, inching dangerously close to the platform's edge, but I opt to stay pressed against the wall, far from the lethal electrified rails. Amidst the chaos, some individuals are forcefully pushed and jostled by the impatient mob, adding to the tension and unease in the confined space.

"My headache is still rumbling; I didn't get enough sleep last night!" I said. While we were walking down the hallway of the school. 

Anne looked at me and said, "Don't tell me because you have a lot of homework and reviews for the exam." Anne clarifies.

"You are right." I said. But the truth is, I'm trying to create a new plot for my story and then successfully write at least one chapter.

"Come with me tonight?" Anne suggested.