Not a soul could be heard for a moment in Blue Valley High School's hallways. Being a rare occurrence as it was, my eyes widened and registered how no one decked the halls, not quite believing it. It was then, when I felt finally wrapped by a coat of freedom, unknowing of how rapidly it would be ripped of me. Rows of lockers silently stared at me as I opened mine, giving myself a second to rest on it when wide open. I could feel my baggy eyes lean on my coloured cheeks as I struggled to find a notebook and curse, regretting not having taken one of those damned sleep pills last night.
Just when I got a taste of oxygen in my lungs after what felt like a week underwater, my head was shoved back in when it became impossible to not notice the footsteps at the end of the corridor.
"Hey punk." Those words flew from one end of the hallway to the other in a matter of seconds, I clicked my tongue and took a deep breath, way too tired to deal with what came next. In response, I sighed, looked at the greenish tiles placed symmetrically on the floor and turned my head. Just to look up and find myself stuck in a battle I'd already lost.
The five of them manifested furtive smiles as they had encountered their daily prey once again. I bet they were looking for me, I thought to myself, as loneliness had become a trusted companion a long time ago. The first boy's vile laugh was the last thing I heard before feeling his knuckles on my left eye and the sole of his right sneaker hitting my stomach. I found myself against an endless wall of wooden lockers, now laughing at me. Their claws took my bag and pushed me again and again against the lockers as if a buffalo herd had ran over me.
I felt the punches come faster and more fiercely, but just when I was about to give in I detected a moving shadow in the background. It seemed familiar. The same blue, hypnotic eyes I met every morning, the same feather-like, brown hair I admired from the shadows, the exact muscular arms and legs that could get me out of this, and that same upside down smile that would tear me apart from the inside every night after dinner. Same age, same blood, completely different lives.
Surprisingly, he stopped short when he saw my hand, waving in the air, pleading for help as I drowned helplessly in a sea of self sorrow. His eyes had found a way, between every moving arm and back to encounter mine, only for him to crack the only opportunity I had of getting out with his fist, raise his left eyebrow and blush, before walking in the opposite direction as if nothing ever.
Before letting me burn by catching fire.
Then I knew: he had carved his own tomb. And then, their knuckles met my forehead once again.
YOU ARE READING
a walk through memories
Storie breviHailey Cooper's past remains a mystery even as she revisits memories of those responsible for her actions, one by one. She is troubled but determined to pay one last visit to those who ever did her wrong, having accepted some time ago that even if s...