Write About Me

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Author/Reader Reflection - An Author's Solace

October 17th, 2011 - Bridgetown, Barbados

Phabiola Fenty.

My pencil danced gracefully over the notebook paper. The thoughts sprinting through my brain being processed onto the college ruled line sheet. Coercing me down memory lane.

As peachy keen as our friendship appears, it most definitely was the complete utter opposite. Eventually the age difference between us spawned a drifting to come of us. That separation began once he entered high school. Chris' demeanor towards things changed. At first I thought it was because he was going through puberty or at the time, "the big change." That was far from the issue. At fifteen, Chris became a man in more ways than one. Christopher met a girl. Her name was Gabriella, and she was to be his girlfriend for three years on and off, two if we're being technical. Gabriella was a Puerto Rican beauty who in a way swept Chris off of his feet. I'd never seen him so infatuated with someone's being until her. Even with all the pain that she caused him, he willingly stuck beside her. That was his girl. That was his every-

"Phabi! Alissa's at the door for you!" Mel called from downstairs.

"Coming!" I grabbed my belongings and shut my door.

It's been a couple weeks or so since cropover and Austin's family left. Things have simmered down and everyone's getting back to their status quo. Except us. Since the night of cropover, I haven't spoken to Chris at all. I've attempted many ways to get him to say something. But, nothing. Not only is he quiet, we don't share any form of communication or contact. My head's spinning and my heart is crumbling at this. We've come so far from past events in our lives together. I've pretty much become a walking zombie. The absolute fact that he knows what he means to me. How he mentally takes me on a trip of intoxication and ecstasy by ogling into my irises. How I'm unable to obtain oxygen properly if I don't wake up and his inky melanin isn't swathed around my being for comfortability and protection. How his kisses ablaze upon my skin and ignite a fire within my soul like a moth to a flame. His voice being the very drug I cannot bear to live without. Like a drug addict, I feign for my next dose, my next fix. With me openly admitting that I belong to him, every inch of my anatomy is he. And I reside in him we are supposed to be a unit. But, since whatever trigger or chord switched off or shorted out that night, for some reason it's hindering him of those abilities. Killing me softly by his song of silence, I reside in comatose until further notice. All I yearn for is to have my boyfriend back.

Collecting my thoughts properly, I placed them on a shelf mentally and prepped myself for today's endeavors. I was to be speaking to a young group of teenage girls about my book Epiphany, and how the commodities she dealt with along the way through her journey can benefit them by learning from her experiences. I vouched to do this as late as I was informed of such need. Out of the kindness and genuine care in my heart. I remember how naive I was then, I'd hate to see anything happen to a young girl who just didn't know. It was my agenda by the end of this presentation and discussion they go out with knowledge to take with them.

Prancing down the stairs, within the chaos occurring my orbs riveted into my lovers. Immediate pain pulsated throughout my being as my heart pump excessively to the gloomy yet emotionless expression possessing his immaculate face. Before I realized, my vision grew blurry as I forced myself to look away from him and walk out the door. Alissa's car was waiting in front of the house. I needed to hurry as I've already waisted time. Blinking, a few singlets raced down my warm Rosemary cheeks. I rid of any extra with the knuckle of my index finger, plastering on smile, and making my way to her car.

"Hey Phabiola, you ready?" She greeted me with a kiss to my cheek.

"Yes," I buckled my seatbelt. "I most definitely am." I cheesed delightfully putting on my shades.