Sight

Twenty Six.

I walked back through the halls of my house, a weary lightheadedness washing over me, I had seen Trevor in the hallway, I had, and I knew I had, then how had I ended up in his room? Was I losing my head, was I simply withering away to fleeting nonsensical thoughts and mindless tortures? Was that my future, asylum?

No. No. I shook my head.

"Maia?" Trevor called out to me, I turned around and saw his small figure in his 'Cars' pajamas and hair sticking up in all directions, "Yes, Trev?" I said as I crouched and he walked over to me, even as the dark night flowed in through the lining windows of the hallway, he still seemed to glow in all the madness, "Are you okay?" He asked, his voice small and quivering, but bold all the same, I frowned, but twisted into a smile, a smile which would've probably been all crooked at the edges, "Yes, Trevie. I'm okay." And he looked at me skeptically, like he knew I was lying, he reached out then and faintly, with his baby fingers, touched my wrap, twisted around my head, "You don't look okay." I frowned, letting the frown stay, "It was only a fall." I said softly, trying to reassure his uneasiness, "No it wasn't." He said, almost like a mutter, and then walked away.

-THEN-

I stood on the pavement, the sun winking and flashing me from behind buildings, teasing those who craved and longed its touch and presence. I stood here, sitting on my suitcase, welcoming the animated buzz of New York; I was finally here, away from my ghost town. I looked around and observed those around me, it seemed as though everyone was in a constant rush, and I kept hearing the yelling of cab drivers and the sudden sounds of spitting which made my insides churn, I was already shoved several times and the faint smell of urine seemed to enhance my experience, but at the end of the day, it wasn't called the Big Apple for nothing, besides, even if this was the underworld, I'd rather be here than back home.

I waited patiently for Grandad's sedan to pull up with their very posh driver, I continued to watched a hundreds of people swarm around me when suddenly I saw a head of blue hair amongst the numerous faces, I watched that head until it turned around and stared me back in the face, the wind got knocked out of me.

It was her. It was Skye.

She saw me and shook her head, suddenly I heard her voice in my head, whispering, 'Go home. Go home, Maia. This is a mistake.' I covered my ears, as though the voice would drain out, it didn't. I looked up at her, anger flooding me, 'I'm not going back.' I said in my own head, as though I was talking to myself, to a mere onlooker I would've looked crazy, a concentrated and angered expression on my face, my fists clenched by my sides, 'Maia, mom needs you, New York isn't the place for you right now. You're making a mistake. Listen to me, please.' She sounded so desperate, as though she was begging Dad for money.

I ground my teeth together, I suddenly tasted a flush of metal when a liquid filled my mouth as I bit the inside of my cheek, 'I'm not going anywhere.' As though sensing my determination, she looked at me, with disappointment or fear, I didn't know, but it caused my heart to dip. Who cares anyway, she was dead. Oh, poor Skylar, victim to suicide, another pathetic act of cowardice.

I looked away, breaking eye contact with her, or whatever that was, and saw the sedan pull up.

From the inside of the lean car, stepped out an old Grandpa, however wealthy Grandpa might've been, he kept to his style. Vests and slacks with loafers and neatly combed back white hair, adorable.

"Maria!" He said, his voice happy, but sad, tears instantly formed in my eyes and I ran towards him, he held me close and against his chest, "I know honey, I know. Everything will be okay, I promise." I knew he was crying too, but I think he'd rather that I ignore it, I know I would.