The next thing I remember was, hearing clanging sounds of utensils from the kitchen. The place beside me was empty. I walked out of the room and into the kitchen to see Agnes trying to look for something to cook.
"Did I ask you to prepare something?" I asked as I started walking towards my room again. "Sick people are supposed to get something good to eat." She said following me to the room. "Then behave like a sick person. You are not allowed to roam around my house, without my permission and the other thing is I don't have anything to eat. So if you wish, you can go out and find something to eat." I said sitting on the bed. She was standing near the door. "Are you even completely fine? Well, you don't look fine to me," I said noticing her red eyes and how her face was slowly turning red. "I'm fine." She said as she came in and started looking for her bag. "It is on the chair," I said pointing at study desk. "I kn--" I held her unconscious body at the right time, or else she would have banged her head on the corner of the bed. "Dumbass." I murmured as I dragged her and laid her on the bed.
After sometime, when she regained back her conscious, I asked her. "Give me your parents phone number, I'll ask them to pick you up." I said looking for her phone in her bag. "I don't have anyone. Everyone died when I was young. We were going somewhere and we had an accident. Unfortunately I was the one who survived that accident." She said raising her body a little up and resting on the head rest. "See I'm brave enough to tell you my story, but you are not." she said mocking me. "Well I hate sympathy and affection." I said coming and sitting down on the bed. "I'll not show you sympathy dumbfuck. I'll write it down in my project to get marks. I'm not interested in showing pity to someone who is trying to die." She rolled her eyes. "There are so many people in this town who committed suicide, why are you after me? Search up the web, you'll find them." I said scrolling through Instagram. "I wanted a person who didn't die, but since you are too inhumane I will have to do it from the web." She laid down on the bed slowly. "Dramatic," I murmured getting up and then went to desk. She was too sick and tired, so it didn't take her long to sleep. I took out her project file.
For the first time, it felt that I needed someone to listen to me. After Riley died, no one was there to share my grief, turning me into something like this today. I had a hobby of dying, but maybe if there was someone there for me, I wouldn't be like this.
I took out the writing pad she had in her bag and wrote down the story that she had asked for. After completing it, I kept the pad and the file inside her bag and went to the common room. I laid down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. There was weird feeling that crept into my heart. It was a warmth, that had been lost for so many years. It was like the apricity brought by the first ray of sun. I wasn't standing on the ledge today, but was feeling the warmth on my entire. I used to have this feeling when I had a complete family. A happy one. It was before the days when I had this same feeling standing on the ledge.
It was this warmth that pulled me out there, and made me stand on the ledge trying to kill myself. It was the warmth that my life was devoid of. Now I had this feeling watching Agnes sleep. Maybe I was meant to find back the warmth in someone and maybe this time they were not supposed to leave.
The next morning I woke up early, packed my bag, woke Agnes up, checked her temperature, which had gone down, packed her bag too and gave her one of the my jackets that had become tight for me. It fitted her perfectly. "Thank you, for the last two days and the jacket." She said sliding her backpack on her shoulders. "I wrote your project information." I said without meeting her eyes. "Oh thank you, send me the links though. I have to write a bibliography too." She said walking out of the house. I walked out locking the door. "It's my story. I wrote down what you had asked me to say." I said slipping the keys into my pocket. "ARE YOU FOR REAL?! YOU REALLY WROTE DOWN YOUR STORY?" she asked side hugging me. I giggled and then checked myself. I'm supposed to be cold, made a mental note. "You are allowed to laugh dumbfuck," she said making the hug tighter. "Don't try to be my Finch." I replied. I was not making an effort to stop her from hugging me. It was very unlikely for me.
We walked to school that day. I did carry my skateboard, but to match her pace I didn't use it. The walk was definitely not quiet. Agnes Abbott was there with me, how could it even be quiet. The next time we met was after her psychology class. She practically leaped on me. She was very fortunate that I held her. "Teacher liked my content." She said standing back on the floor. "Thank you." she hugged me once again. I patted her back. "My pleasure." We had our last classes that day. We were heading out. "Would you like to come to my house? I want to return your favour by cooking something for you." Agnes asked. "Nah, thank you. I'm fine." I said mounting on my skateboard. "Fine, but come over sometime." She said as she walked towards the opposite lane and I skateboarded to my house.
