The Fight Against Loved Ones #TFALO

Chapter 1: Separated

Happy Reading :)

When did the rain become a storm?

When did the clouds begin to form?

Yeah, we got knocked off course by a natural force
And we'll, we'll be swimming when it's gone

-Beautiful Goodbye, Maroon 5

Staring into an endless void, I saw a forefinger dangerously pointing at me, somehow declaring that my doom. I tried to flush off the accusing image from my mind when I heard my name being called somewhere seemingly far away. With no intention to pay any more heed than required, I tried focusing to find the body the voice belonged to.
Fighting my inner turmoil to fall back into the deep void of my churning emotions, I focused further.

"Ms. Soul this is the first time I have seen you so distracted. I have been calling your name for the past five minutes now. Sit up, and pay attention."

Am I still in class? Mrs. Sutton, our history teacher somewhere in her 60s, had a book in her left hand and was peering at me over her reading glasses that rested quaintly on her crooked nose. The class was not-so-unusually quiet. I looked around. Most of the students were drowsy like always, and one of them even seemed to be snoring lightly. Some of the students ahead me had turned around to get a look. I guess this is the one class that could make me more gloomy than I already was. The walls seemed to be closing in, I needed to get out of here.

I swung my bag over my shoulder and with slow undecided steps, I approached the teacher's desk.

"I am not feeling well, I need to visit the nurse", I murmured.

I waited for the teacher to sign the pass and left immediately. I felt drained of all my energy while I left the classroom. Even walking seemed like a job. But instead of going in for the checkup, I chose to rather go to the washroom.

I took a sharp turn on my way and came face to face with the golden boy of our school.

Jason Woods

A typical middle-schooler, with an unusual sense of humor and probably the reason why he ended up in mischiefs, most of which he easily got out of due to his Dad's familiarity with the school board. And he was the captain of our school's under-15 basketball team.

His sandy brown fringes came down shadowing one of his stunning blue eyes while he ran a hand over one side of his face. It seemed he was returning from his football practice as sweat trickled down his hair and he seemed a bit out of breath.

And if we don't count the random encounters due to a group activity, I haven't talked to him ever.

I just stood there and stared at his gorgeous face. Finally when I realized what I have been doing, a good minute after, in embarrassment, I decided to murmur a sorry and just bee-line for the washroom, making it look like I wasn't just shamelessly gawking at him.

So as planned, I dodged him and was about to cross him on my way, when my wrist was harshly gripped and pulled back.

Shocked by the sudden action, I let out a whelp and snatched my hand back. I cradled the spot in order to lessen the pain and directed furious eyes towards the culprit who gave this soaring pain. Amazingly though he didn't even had the decency to look sorry. Instead he just stood there smirking. That was until he looked at my face. Understanding flashed over him, his eyes softened, and concern was written all over his face.

He suddenly raised one of his hands as if to touch my face and I retracted.

"W-What the hell do you think you are doing?", my voice came out shaky but clearly audible.