You Can Read Me

Emotions

That next day, I woke up in darkness. 

I was never afraid of the dark, or the things that might be in it. 

But I didn't quite understand why this darkness was so hard. Waking up with a splitting headache and shoes still on was the worst thing in the world. 

Ever. 

The flowers drained me, which was the most frustrating thing I could have dealt with at 6:30 in the morning. 

After the incidents in the library and the falling tree branch, I stayed clear of Shadow. 

Well, not exactly. 

I didn't engage in conversation with him, that would be a better way to say it. 

We passed each other in the hall every now and then, but mostly kept to our own ways. 

However, I did notice him staring even more often after that. 

For all the group projects we have, we somehow end up together, but always hand in our work separately, and never say a single word to each other.

I was honestly disappointed.

I had wondered if we could become friends, hoped rather, but it was clearly not in Shadow's interest. 

I kept my eye on him, checking in on his thoughts every morning to see if he was okay or if he needed anything, and sometimes, I would forget that we never speak. 

I knew a lot about Shadow, almost as if we did talk, and always could confide in another.

It was like a one-way friendship. 

I could work with that.

Today was a December morning and a blanket of pearl white snow lay over everything like angel feathers dropped down from the clouds. The first hopeful rays of dawn were starting to peak over the treetops, and bathing the whole world in a warm, golden honey. It was like staring through a rainbow, one made of easily shattered beauty and an icy delicateness. 

Gathering my things, I was about to head out when something floated down from one of my pouches. It must have been put there yesterday, because I didn't have it on Monday morning. 

I bent down to pick it up, my hand hovering over it like a pink butterfly over a wondrous flower, before grasping it between small fingers. I studied it with shining interest, wondering who would have gone through all the trouble to make it. 

It was a large piece of paper, folded oh-so gently into a rose, and with the white snow just outside, it looked like it was a shard of winter. 

I hesitantly unfurled the rose, taking extra care not to rip the paper. Inside was a message, a simple message that meant so, so much to me.

I want to meet you.

It sent the most exhilarating wonders up my spine, through my body, straight to my heart. 

Someone out there, in school, wants to meet me, to get to know me, to talk to me. 

Someone out there had specially made this rose just for me. 

And I think I knew who it was.

With excitement, I folded the paper back into a rose, before putting my backpack on, and practically floating out the door. 

I couldn't wait to get to school, to find this mystery person who might not be so much of a mystery. But that was okay.

It gave me energy, power to face the world with a brave face.