Behind Unwritten Eyes

Chapter Eight

So I still don't know who this man is. I still don't know how to sort him out in my head. He's just this figment of my imagination, but I know he was real.

I walk up to Kyle and rest my chin on his shoulder. He was pulling a book out of his locker but turned around to face me.

"So. Kyle. Explain. You promise for us to talk Sunday morning, but when I wake up not only are you gone, but there's a rose in my room. Then you didn't even answer my texts. Or calls. Or FaceTime requests. Now I know I'm socially awkward and all, but I don't see this as an excuse." I flash a grin to him before walking down the hall win him in tow.

"Okay well I have an excuse." He puffs once he finally catches up to me.

"Your mom came in sometime around the time we fell asleep and promptly kicked me out."

"How would that explain the rose? And then the ignoring me all day?"

"Well I sorta kinda maybe broke into your room after I left. I bought a rose from the store down the street."

"Okay, continue" I say when he sounds like he's finished.

Obviously he doesn't want to tell me why he ignored me all day, but I was nosy. So I pushed on.

"I was with my friend all day. I was busy." He states, clearing his throat.

I roll my eyes. "Whatever."

I walk away from him in a huff and walk into my first block. It takes me a moment to remember where my seat was, because I hadn't been in so long.

Immediately Kyle takes a seat from the table next to mine and drags it over.

"Kyle what are you doing? Go to class."

"No. I don't have to. The late bell hasn't rung yet."

"What exactly do you want again?" I ask, letting the agitation show in my voice.

"I'm coming by your house after school, even though I'm pretty sure your mom doesn't like me. We're going to talk like I said we would."

"Okay." I respond.

"Are we good?"

Before I can respond the late bell rings and the teacher looks up from his computer.

"Anyone who doesn't belong here leave." He announces.

Kyle gives me one last look before turning around and walking out of the classroom, his head hung low.

I don't even see him until I get home.

*****

"Do not make it a habit." I scold. "I will not have you entering my room when I am not here! You could've gone through my stuff"

"Fine, fine chill, I won't do it again."

"I don't like your back-sass."

"Annik? Who are you talking to in there?" My mother calls through the door.

"Uhm," I nervously giggle, "No one?"

I knew she could hear the question in my voice. I pretty much gave myself away, so I wasn't as surprised as Kyle was when she opened my door.

"Annika, I do not like this boy." She states in a warning tone.

I hang my head in my hands and look over at him. He understands my look and puts his shoes back on. He gives my mom a salute and then climbs back through my window.

"Dammit Kyle, seriously?" I mumble.

"Sorry!" He shouts back and I shake my head.

"What do you want mom?"

"Excuse me? I expect you to use a better tone with me young lady."

I roll my eyes, showing her I didn't really care. "Honestly mom, you care more about our dog, that we don't have yet, more than you do about me. I don't want to hear it."

She frowns at me and stands.

"You know what Annika? You are a very ungrateful little girl, and you need to realize that you could have no food, no roof over your head." She pauses. "Annika, wait, I didn't mean that."

I shake my head and a tear falls down my cheek.

"You don't even care about me. You go out of your way to hurt me and call me insane. Like I said not five minutes ago. I do not want to hear the bullshit that comes out of your mouth. Now get out."

She walks out of my room mumbling a string of explicit words under her breath. As she passes the doorway she slams the door shut so hard my whole room shakes.

It's almost as if it happens in slow motion. The door slamming shut, the walls shaking. I watch as my first picture falls to my floor.

The glass in the frame shatters when it hits the ground. Well it didn't really hit the ground first, it had bounced off the wall and then my desk before falling to the ground and actually cracking.

Of course I had dove after it to catch it before it landed, but I wasn't quick enough. This only made me feel more depleted than before.

I sigh in sorrow as I slide off my bed. Sitting on the floor I look at the frame, not wanting to touch it. Once I had gathered the strength, I lean over and pull out the picture from the pile of glass.

I study the photo of me when I had turned one. My face was pudgy, and I was filthy. Probably covered in cake I suppose.

I spend some time studying the picture before turning it over to see if there was anything written on the back. To my luck, there was. It had the date of the photo, and a name. My name to be precise. The handwriting was oddly unfamiliar, but it brought a smile to my face. It made me feel secure if that makes sense.

Was it possible mister wrote this?

****
Hey guys!
Yay chapter eight! I feel so proud in myself for even getting this far in my book.
Thank you so much for your support and help and love.
I love you all in return,
XoXo
~Late