The end of summer crawled steadily closer. The days of August were upon us, and the back-to-school commercials were just beginning to make their runs and re-runs on tv.
Summer's end was always a time when things were put into perspective. It could be as simple as you realizing that while summer had swept you off your feet for a wonderful few months, your freedom was now dwindling as school time drew near. My summer's end was full of revelations, all I much more complex. But there was still one thing that rocked the boat, and worse — I couldn't make it stand still.
As I knew already, I'd been told nothing but lies, and we really were in the midst of losing our house. At least I knew. My mother refused to believe it, and she refused to pack our things. Meanwhile I had just resigned myself to our fate, and waited for the time we'd be forced to.
But fate hadn't yet carried out its plan, and in response — a demon of some sorts took a place in my head. Pen and paper used to be my repellent to keep them at bay. Now it just felt like a tiresome exercise that had lost its joy, and it rarely felt its place between my fingers anymore.
It was hard not to be resentful. It was hard not to feel like I deserved some compensation for what life was putting me through. It was hard not to look at other teen's lives and ask, well why couldn't that be my life?
Most of all, it was hard to be my own hero when my cape was in tangles and my sidekick had left on their own adventure.
Perhaps I welcomed that resentment, because it felt a whole hell of a lot better than crying.
It had taken me a while to realize it, but I wasn't just waiting for the day we'd get the final knock on our door. I was a child gazing at the night sky for a shooting star, waiting for something so hopeless but I was so sure would appear.
However the days wasted away, and in due time, I stopped searching through the skies.
Instead, I put my focus into getting ready for the school year. Eleventh grade was a big step, after all. It would be filled with preliminary college visits, SAT prepping, and more stress over the importance of grades. It was a prime example of growing up through your high school years, and I would welcome it with open arms, putting the past firmly behind me.
All of it.
About two weeks before school started, I was laying in bed, looking at the county website to find activities to complete for my mandatory-to-graduate volunteer hours. Scrolling past another tutoring option with the shake of my head, I jumped a bit when my phone started to buzz in my hand.
It was a call, from a number I didn't recognize. Instinctively, my thumb reached for decline. Then again, I never recognized any of the housing companies' numbers when they called.
"Hello?" I answered in a grim tone.
"Hi, is this Maya Smith?" A somewhat familiar timid voice asked.
"Yes, speaking."
"You might remember me — this is Conrad's mother — " She paused as my breath faltered, " — I realize this might be a bad time, but c-could you come over right now?"
"Why?" I whispered, "Is something wrong?"
A loud crash sounded in the background.
"J-just please come over, if you can," Conrad's mother swallowed a sob, "He needs you. He really does."
He needs you.
There was no time to let my demons tell me to wait any longer. Desperation and fear cancelled out all other factors.
My knight was in distress, and I was his damsel to the rescue.
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Flicker Pain
ChickLit* * * Maya Smith is a girl living in a sea of trouble. She feels like there's nothing for her in this life, no way that she'll ever become normal again. Conrad Wilkins is a boy who's been bred from darkness and misfortune. He sees himself as one...
