REKINDLED || Completed

7

🌸🌸🌸
Seven
🌸🌸🌸

It felt as though the whole world was on her shoulders.

Asher always felt that way, but the weight only grew heavier the moment she stepped through the grand, overstated entrance hall of Colland University.

Jsyk, there's sarcasm there—Nothing in Colland University was impeccable.

It was the bane of her existence.

She'd barely made it through the first year before she started wondering if dropping out was normal.

Three years later, the thought still loomed.

"Hello!"

A shrill voice rang through the hallway just as Asher slipped past the suffocating crowd. She barely had time to react before a blonde girl materialized in front of her, practically bouncing in place, her grin so wide Asher wondered if it hurt.

"Hi. Again. Look, I'm never one to bother, I'm Kiera. Vice president of the—"

"—I'm good," Asher deadpanned, sidestepping the girl before she could finish.

Lately, people had been approaching her more than usual, always seeming to want something. She never let them get past the first five seconds.

She didn’t have the patience.

She didn’t have the energy.

She barely even had the will to be here.

She still couldn’t understand why she had listened to that dumb app. She was supposed to be gone by now.

Her body moved on autopilot as she trudged toward her first class, unnoticed. Just the way she liked it. But then—

Her steps faltered.

A familiar face came into view, and her heart wrenched.

Across the room, Laramie locked eyes with her. Just for a second. Then, as if burned, she quickly turned away, her forced laughter blending into the chatter of her friends.

The pain hit Asher like a fresh wound torn open.

Being cut off. Being left behind. Being alone.

She turned away, exhaling softly.

Forget it.

But as she reached her usual seat, a voice interrupted.

"Someone's going to take that seat."

A dark-haired guy barely looked up from his phone as he spoke.

She stared at him, blankly. If he saw the misery in her eyes, he didn’t care.

Or maybe he was just blind.

"I'm serious. Get another seat," he muttered, still not bothering to look at her.

Fine.

She turned on her heels and settled into the only open spot left—back row, with the alley kids.

She called them alley kids because no sane adult acted the way they did, chewing gum obnoxiously and laughing at things that weren’t funny.

The lecture droned on, but Asher barely absorbed a word. Instead, she let her pencil move absentmindedly over the page.

Sketching.

Maxine.

A sharp pang pierced her chest.

Maxine was gone.

Asher remembered  clutching her favorite mop brush—her most prized possession. Then, just like that, she was gone.