The Never Lasting Forever

Chapter 1- The recovery holiday

As story's go this one isn't particularly optimistic, tragic or a deep confession of love. It's nothing but a simple story that once clouded my mind, ready to be read by my eyes only, In hope, that it would finally make sense. It's not exactly deep, but more refined to something that my mind and my mind only would understand.

Normally the sun beats down on bared skin openly stinging but ever so soothing. No. The air condenses and thickens almost suffocating me. Then there she is skipping in through the elevator doors, almost rushing but not obviously next to me leaving me with next to know personal space what so ever. Deep eyes glanced occasionally in my direction trying to look cool but I can tell they are fixated on my every move. She has followed me around popping up here and there, driving me crazy I hasten to add. Smiling. Just smiling then quickly looking away hoping I notice but not enough to make a big thing out of it. I finally let out a small sigh and manage to creep a small smile in return, I suppose I should seeing as after about the 50 million she has given me I have given next to none in return and could some what seem rude. Admiration seems to kill me, small children constantly showering you. It drives me crazy, that's the thing, it seems to make more of them pop up following you everywhere. I am not famous in some what form or desirable, beautiful or extremely kind. I'm just me, nothing more, nothing less. People just think I'm silly pushing them away being mean and ridiculous, but they don't understand. It's not just them, it's just I don't like children they remind me too much of myself as a child. Happy and unaware, innocent. That's before it all happened. So why do they admire me? Who would want to be like me?

A familiar voice saying the same familiar question, "you ok?" My dad pushes, again. I reply in the same familiar voice to him, with the same familiar answer, "yep" what they don't know is that question drives me crazy. Always pressing always wanting more. I shall never give anymore than yep, ever because yep doesn't mean yep it means a whole lot more than that. The thing is I don't know myself what yep means it's just a word to cover up all that I don't know, all that I don't want them to know. It takes him no more than a couple of seconds to realise the I want to be alone so he finds some extremely important reason so hurry into the hotel bathroom, closely followed by my mum and brother. I sincerely doubt that they are all having communal teeth brushing time, but instead worrying about me. Like always. It is now part of there daily routine. Get up dressed, showered, worry about lily.

This holiday was meant to be a big relief. For everyone to relax and forget all that has happened in the last year. We were doing surprisingly well, other than the times when we would argue over which restaurant to go to and it was closely followed by a look of pity and eyes watering. Then my dad would storm off, my mum left speechless, while I sat there in silence, barely listening just staring into the distance. I didn't understand at first, then I began to recognise the looks. Those looks where they can't just forget what's happened they blame themselves. For me. I now understand that it's not about the restaurant at all. What they don't understand is all I want is them to forget what's happened, and if that means eating at a particular restaurant; I don't really care. But for their sake, I will keep believing that the restaurant really matters.

The holiday ended. All was back to normal. I got ill, again. An after effect of the treatment they said. I must admit, I'm wondering how many "after effects" there can be, or after shocks as I like to call them. It's another one of those things that seem to cover up the true meaning of what's happening. I have never been one for hidden meanings in life, however now they are proving to be quite useful to me.

The summer went buy in a flash, more than normal. If I think about it whenever you want something to last forever, it seems to go ten times as fast. There was a tiny part of me that wanted it to end. Not really sure why. Something to do with getting away from all the fuss at home. I am noticing that my mum is also worrying about these "after shocks" but for her sake once again, I carry on and pretend I haven't noticed.

School starts tomorrow. I try to sleep off all the demons, in hope that I will have forgotten everything by tomorrow. But I know that they are always there. The thing is, there is simply too much to forget and too many demons to get rid of, so this is why all my memories seem to flood back from last year, simply by thinking about getting up tomorrow morning.