Dear child,
I remember that Tuesday afternoon like it was just yesterday. I distantly remember the way I would feel whilst seated in math’s class feeling all eyes of them glued onto my body and me. I didn’t know how the whole school had found out about ‘that night’ so quickly. And It didn’t make it any better when James had swiveled his position in front to stare directly into my crimson eyes. I remember that feeling off his breath as he searched for my expression about the things we had done ‘that night’. I felt sick, everyone knew different fragments of the story. And by trying to bring my attention to my Grade 9 algebra book only made my head wonder with twisted thoughts about that weekend. I mean seriously who needed algebra in life anyways. Pointless crap I thought. Instead I tried to focus on the final remaining weeks of Term 1, but I couldn’t even excite myself for anything. I would have been venturing home on a plan to a family whom didn’t care enough and only called once this past term. And even that sounded more exciting then being stuck in a boarding house over the Easter break being miserable because the world didn’t feel at my feet anymore, it felt way above my head and I was drowning in my own tears.
I just wanted peace, child. Peace, in my own bed to regain myself, my pure self; ‘well not anymore’ the words purposefully rung in my ears, almost in the exact tone of my own voice. It wasn’t me though, just my head playing a horrible game with my heart. As those continuous exploding thoughts spiraled there way into a major headache I had heard a whisper from the row in front of me.
And then he spoke my name softly, those same lips that had said my name over and over on ‘that night’. But what he said made me regret every single decision leading up to that night, and that weekend, and this school, and this life. ‘You’re so pathetic’ the word slowly rolled off his tongue in a way that he honestly and truly meant it. And child, at that time I agreed with him. I made myself as small as a pawn in his chess game. He could move me to any square and I would not fight back because his mind was much too powerful and I was still a child. So instead of marching myself right out of math’s class that day, I just looked up into his deceiving eyes and whispered back, a quarter smile on my face, ‘I know James, I know’. That was the third disappointment and I knew that those would be the last words I spoke to James Hughes.
Love Ebony May xoxo
YOU ARE READING
Catching Chase (ON PAUSE)
RomanceFor 14 year old Ebony May Jones, things have not always been easy. Living in a dis-functional family who's only form of communication is when asking for the salt or pepper. Nothing ever seems as it should in her life. Even her early introduction int...