[restarted] Highschool - Lasagna

(the encounter)

Summer's glare kept me from looking high school in its ember-red eye even though the occasional wind-brought chill warned me of autumn's leaves arrival. From it I would hide in my parent's dark room illuminated by two glowing computer screens. There was my mother's that no one dared to touch, and my father's, which I reigned over my bickering sisters to sit in front of it. Everyday was nearly the same, and to me it was exactly the same day. Time showed progress in the process of my digital scribbles and online conversations. Gmail was behind my canvas; I felt that soon it would "bing" (like just now).

I switched the screens, making sure my pen didn't roll off my tablet. Who could it be, with only two possibilities (and the slightest hint of sushi)? Alex?! No, Trina, and I mean tree-na, not trih-na. Trih, trih, tree, trih-nah. Never mind, pronunciations are for what are said aloud, and I had no reason to make any sound. Spelling replaced sound, although I had issues with all of it. I made the chat box a little corner in the monitor, responding to its bings so more would be sent this way. These conversations were like skipping rope. I was quite good at it, but of course I frequently tripped and unlike with Alex I would pick the handles off the dusty ground and get back into rhythm.

me: I really don't know what to say ninety percent of the time

trina: then i suppose this is the 10%?

(Except that one time)

Ah. That wasn't tripping. I fell down the stairs and rolled down the nonexistant hill. No, yes. (Gah.) I'll never have an answer

The norm was the auto-pilot, not noticing the clouds shift their gait and dance from behind the heavy curtains that made this room a literal cave as my mother slip onto her darkened domain through the door. I did not factor in her presence from behind me as she lightly placed her light fingers on my shoulders.

"Who's that?"

I jumped. Why, hello there, mother. "Who? My drawing?"

She pointed to the corner. "No, /that/." Her nail nipped the bag containing her aggression. It seeped out and evaporated around my self-esteem. In my conscience did it settle; here begins the battle. Don't cry, Jet, don't fucking whimper.

"That's Trina." Trih-na, tree-na.

"I can see that." Every word had tiny cactus thorns. I watched them plunge into my skin. It doesn't mean anything. I barely breathed. "How do you know them?" With her questions disguised as statements, the interrogation seemed... off.

"Through the Internet."

"Huh." She went to her captain's chair, to her loyal CPU. I typed away her thorns and covered up the tiny punctures. Please, let the silence fall as it settles simultaneously. I don't like this unknown and I cannot lie. I can't make Trih/Tree-na a member of my school so I could fall back into the same patterns. I could imagine it, the disgruntled yelling, my empty half-explanation, the rebuttal of what a bad person their family must be. I could walk away woozy, but what about the Internet? iNnTeRnEtT?!? I bit down on the inside of my cheek. I typed away anxiety and colored in my drawing.

"Where do they live?" They? What of they? Not a he or obvious she, it was they! "Well?"

Damn. "I don't know." Omissions, omissions.

"Really."

You're too calm! Yell! Throw another tantrum! For what, I never know.

"How old are they?"

"Seventeen."

"You're twelve!"

"I'm almost fifteen." Shit, I should have chewed out my tongue.

Silence, heavy silence, deadening silence, deafening silence, this is her speech.

I signed off gmail; I saved my drawing and pushed away my tablet. It's time to evacuate.

"Jericho."

"Yes?" I had my back to the door, my eyes to the line of light on my sock.

My mom let more silence erode at my imagination. "You can go."

I gladly did.

What a crime it is to have people to talk to. Most people called them friends. I rotted at the word. Friends leave. People are just people with no reason to come or go, but friends leave.

I climbed up to my room where I saw no Sun. It was time to pretend to sleep, to pretend my brain would let me.