Can't You Tell I'm Drowning? (Teacher/Student Frerard)

2: For Spending Time Around The Dead Makes Me Feel Alive.

A/n: Okay so first of all, an immensely big thanks to the lovely and talented  SeraphStarshine, who was extremely kind and took the time to do the final editing of the first and also this chapter! I appreciate it more than I love coffe, and well that says a lot!

It was in my purest intentions to walk straight home after school this Friday, I always do because when it comes down to it, Belleville doesn't really provide all too many places to spend time at for a loner like me.

But as I wandered towards my house, the rain that had been pouring down over the lifeless small town during the whole day subsided drastically and it had brought a pleasant freshness that was now still hanging in the air. As I inhaled the early autumn oxygen, it felt as if my lungs were being cleared from all the anxiety and pain that had been haunting me like a hungry lion for the past few weeks, and suddenly the idea of locking myself up in my room for the next two days didn't sound so tempting anymore.

So without any actual warning, I found myself making my way towards one of the most beloved place that I know of, in all honesty, it is almost like a second home to me.

The cemetery.

Because as morbid as it maybe sounds, spending time around the dead makes me feel alive.

It is just something about the atmosphere that is hanging over the graveyard like a heavy duvet, swirling around the endless tombstones that represent humans from the past that seems to isolate the - in other's eyes - tragic area from the rest of the world.

And as I'm pacing the paths, I feel safe, as if nothing can get to me.

Sometimes I even think that I can sense some sort of presence, like there is someone from a long gone time that wants to get in contact with me by sending out some supernatural vibes for me to catch onto. In reality, it is probably nothing but my own overactive mind that is playing absurd games with me, but it feels real and it also makes me feel a little special in ways I can't quite explain. Therefore, it is not a rarity at all for me to walk around the rows of gravestones, quietly talking to whatever creatures there maybe are on the other side about everything in between earth and heaven.

They never speak back to me though, and maybe that is for the best because if I all of a sudden started to hear voices, then I would probably have to consider sending myself away to some sort of mental institution and that is something that I would rather avoid at all costs.

Because I might be a big mess of fears and emotions, but I'm not that far gone, at least I don't think I am.

Yet.

It is not just the cemetery itself that attracts me to the outskirts of town in such a robust way though, of course it plays an immensely big part, but there is also something else, a thing that I like to think of as a secret of mine, my very own holy place.

For behind the last row of tombstone there grows a majestic dense forest which practically everyone seems to refer to as 'The End of Belleville'. But in fact the well-grown forest just has the job of separating the brainwashed village in which I'm forced to live from an all but hidden and dazzling place, a little lake to be exact. My lake.

It maybe doesn't sound like the most mesmerizing and holy of things in this world, but believe me, it most certainly is. Because the way the trees encircles the area makes them cast shadows over the blue water as the sun is gazing over their green tops and it gives the lake an almost dramatic character. And the way the little patch of sand that detaches the lively grass from the clear water adds a strong, but beautiful contrast, and at most times, the sand seems to be glowing as if it is an aftermath of the sun.