Thomas Imagines | ✓

01 | a walk in the park

It was a sunny day. Which always seems to be making fun of me. The sun making everything look rather otherworldly. Much to my distaste. The chirping of birds, chatter of neighbours and laughter of children, makes my skin crawl with disgust.

Inside my room, loud music blasts through the speakers atop a table that I obtained for my sixteenth birthday. Old pictures scatter the floor, clothes lay in random spots, some covering a pile of pillows, others gathered together in a pile by the entrance, others scattered like little bombs around the entirety of my room. The bedsheets lay intact, as if no one had slept there the night before, which I hadn't. I had fallen asleep in my roof, while listening to music and watching the stars. I had awoken when a sudden ray of light hit my eyes. A bird had sat on my legs.

I walk around my room, my fingers twitching at my side, an uneasy feeling arising deep within me. Clothes fly everywhere as I look for my earbuds, one almost hitting my mother when she opens the door. She's beautiful, I suppose, take away the wrinkles and the white hairs. "Are you ready?" She asks in her perky voice that always irritates me.

"No." I say, making her wince, but I pretend to not have noticed it.

A little sigh escapes my lips as I look under my bed. Snatching the earbuds away, I grab my bag and follow my mother down the stairs, out the door and finally to her car.

"Ooh, from one to ten how excited are you?"

"Do I have to answer that?" I ask as I put my earbuds on. Wondering why she always asks me things that she already knows the answer to.

I don't even know why I have to go to this stupid session. It's not like if I'm trying to kill myself. But, my mother thinks otherwise. She believes that because my favorite colour is black (and yes it is a colour!), and I like to listen to sad songs all the time, and that I have absolutely no friends, I'm depressed.

Am I? Maybe. It's not like I've been diagnosed but it's there. I can feel it hovering over my head like massive rain clouds, ready to descend upon the fields of poppies underneath it. I can feel the wall preventing me from moving forward, a walk that divides me into two people. But of course, mother thinks that wall is about me killing myself. However she got that, I do not know.

As we approach to the church where they hold it, I can't help myself but have a déjà vu about a book I read a few years ago. What was it called?...

"Have a nice day!" My mom says as she pulls my earbuds out, causing my head to tilt to the side. Mother doesn't pull things, she yanks on them.

"Ouch!" I exclaim.

"Oh don't be a baby and go!" She smiles widely.

I shake my head and get out of the car. Grumbling curses under my breath, only to end up apologizing when I touch the door to the church. I may not had been raised in church, but I know that the Lord doesn't like it when my pretty mouth swears. And it's also disrespectful no matter what. My mom doesn't leave until I enter, smiling widely when I turn around and wave at her. With a nod to herself, she beers out of the church's parking lot and the smiles drops from my face. I instantly open my bag and get my phone out.

You see I wasn't supposed to have my phone with me because I'm apparently addicted to it. Well, I'm not. That's another thing that she and I happen to have a debate on almost everyday.

I open the door once again, but instead of going in, I'm going out. But as I step outside, the breeze which had not been there a moment before caressing my cheek, the door opened by my hand, someone says, "Leaving already?"

My head snaps to the direction which the sound happened to come from, my eyes searching the hall until it lands on a far wall, where a tall boy stands with his arms crossed. The first thought that comes to my mind is to tell him off, but then I look at what's beside him, a cross, and I silently sigh. The boy is cute, I suppose. His hair under the light looks more like gold, a soft smile on his lips makes his features look rather young, but even if he wasn't smiling, he would look young.