I’m sitting in class minding my own business when Tallan comes in looking wild and frantic.
I watch him, alarmed and confused as he marches right up to Ben, breathing ragged and eyes bright. “Where is it?” he says quietly, voice shaking visibly.
Ben stares at him unimpressively, while his friends snicker and roll their eyes. “What are you talking about, faggot?”
Tallan doesn’t flinch. “My book. Where. Is. It?” Anyone can tell he’s about to blow. But I think I’m the only one that sees that he’s almost at the edge. And I don’t want to know what’s there if he jumps off, because I bet it’s nothing good. For him or anybody.
“I don’t know where the hell that thing is,” says Ben, now beginning to eye him warily. “Look, kid, calm down, okay? You probably just dropped it some-----”
“No, I didn’t!” Tallan explodes, while everyone watches with shock. And I hate it. I hate them for staring at this freak putting on a good show as he’s breaking down, losing it in front of us all. Tallan is still ranting and screaming when I walk up to him.
“Tallan.” I put my hands out, ignoring the stares. “Hey. It’s okay. We’ll find your sketchbook, okay?”
He stares at me, shoulders heaving, face red, eyes wide. “Fuck you,” he says weakly, before he turns and runs off.
I’m staring after him again, thinking about how to approach him later when Ben’s voice wakes me up. “You just going to let the pussy say that to you?”
Suddenly seething, I turn to look him in the eye. He blinks, startled at the seriousness of my expression. “Stop calling him names,” I tell him quietly. “Just leave him the fuck alone, okay? Can’t you see he’s gone through enough without having to worry about you assholes? What has he ever done to you guys?” I look at all of them, disgust plain in my eyes.
One of his friends, thinking he’s so smart, pipes up, “Who made you all high and mighty, Jade? Just because you’re giving him charity doesn’t give you the right to tell us what to do.”
Before I can respond, Ben, of all people, tells the kid to “Shut the fuck up, dick.” And then he stops me before I leave. “Jade.”
I look up at him, waiting.
“I won’t pretend to understand why you care about the kid or what he’s got that’s got you. But I swear I didn’t take his book.”
I nod slightly at him. “I hope you didn’t.” Then I grab my stuff and walk out the door, the class and dumbfounded teacher staring after me.
I find Tallan crouching on the field, shoulders shaking. Hurrying up to him, I realize there are ripped up pieces of paper all around him.
“Tallan. Who did this? They should----”
“I did.” His voice is so low, so empty, I get the chills. “I ripped it.”
I sink down next to him, staring at his face, half-hidden behind his dark hair. “Why?” I ask him quietly.
Fists grab his hair, and he sucks in a ragged breath. “I don’t---- this is---- I can’t fucking do this anymore.”
Hearing the desperation in his voice, my heart starts to pound in fear. For him. “What do you mean?”
He laughs weakly, almost madly, as he lowers his hands. All I know is that I’ve never heard a sound more lost and gone and so full of pain, nothing of humour or sunshine. I almost reach out, afraid he’s finally really reached his limit. I don’t know what to do.
He lifts his head to look at me once. His grey eyes are like shattered glass. And he whispers, “I’m sorry, Jade,” before he gets up and leave me behind. Again.
I’m about to scream in frustration when I notice a piece of paper he’d dropped. It’s still whole, folded but complete and unharmed. I pick it up, and almost dropped it again.
It’s a picture of me.
My breath catches as my eyes roam over the pencil portrait greedily. He’s caught so much detail, it’s almost like looking into a mirror, except this girl on paper is way more beautiful. It’s amazing how in a few lines and some shading he made this girl seem like something come to life. He is so much more talented than anyone gave him credit for.
Before bed, my mother knocks on my door.
She comes in, holding the skirt I asked her to re-hem. I thank her, mind already with a certain boy, but she stops before leaving my room. She points at the new picture taped up on my wall. “Who did this?”
I look up at it, flashing back to the way Tallan looked on the field. So lost. Crazy. Abandoned. “Mom. Do you remember that boy that stayed for dinner?”
She turns and studies me carefully. “Tallan, wasn’t it? He’s pretty talented, isn’t he?”
I nod, glancing down at my lap. I twist my hands together.
“He’s sort of quiet, isn’t he?” Mom sits on my bed. “Something’s going on with that boy, am I right?” When I nod reluctantly, she sighs, reaching out to brush my hair back. “I’m not going to ask. I trust you’re sensible enough to handle things on your own. But Jade, honey...” She waits until I meet her eyes. “If things get real serious, you don’t hesitate to come straight to me and daddy, you hear?”
I attempt a smile to let her know I understand. “I know, ma. Just, I’m afraid I’m the only one who thinks he has a chance. But I’m doing my best, ma. I am.”
She kisses me on the forehead. “You’re a beautiful girl, darling.”
“‘Night, mom.”
He’s not there again the next day.
I wander through the day wondering what to do. I can’t go to his house again, but what if something’s happened? What if nothing happened and he’s just skipping?
crooked, i tell you. i wrote this a while ago, forgive me for any mistakes or just plain bad writing. oh well.
smile, pass it on: buy someone else an extra cup of coffee while in line at the local cafe. (:
> Breathe ~ He Is We
> external link: need cheering up? there's more than enough kawaiiness to last you a day or two. (yesh, i'm a self-confessed manga-obsessed more-than-slightly-messed-up teenage girl.)
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Sketches and Scars
Short Story"But once you start noticing something----especially someone---- it’s not as easy to just go back to life before." He was that kid in the back you didn't know existed except when the teacher did roll call. He was that kid that got shoved into in the...
